Relationship Problems
by NellaElla
Summary: Flippy always has had problems making friends. But a girlfriend? Is it even possible for him?
1. Chapter 1: First Encounter

Flippy never really understood doctors. There was just something about them he couldn't put his finger on. It had developed from a misunderstanding and transformed into an absolute hate when he had returned from Afghanistan. As a kid, doctors just made him uneasy, always in their white coats and holding clipboards with lots of words and scribbles on them. Now as an adult, he wanted nothing more than to make those white coats saturate with red and to snap those stupid clipboards in half. Even now, as he sat on the cold, doctors table, he was holding himself back.

"How have you been, mister Flippy?" The doctor asked casually. They always asked generic things like that, and Flippy always gave them to same answer. "Fine."

The doctor did the usual, understanding nod, pulling the stethoscope away from around his neck and putting the ear buds in. He placed his hands on Flippy's chest, putting the cold head right above his heart. Flippy wasn't sure which was colder; this man's hand or the sterilized, icy circle pressed into his skin.

"Deep breath," the man instructed. Flippy begrudgingly complied, biting back his annoyance as the cold plate moved from place to place, each time giving him chills. He wondered what was so important about this whole process. He was breathing just fine, couldn't he see that? He had never had a problem with it and was pretty sure he never would, so why all the concern? As the doctor leaned forward to examine his rib cage, Flippy eyed the part of his neck exposed from his coat. His pupils immediately dilated as he eyed the jugular, watching the thick, pulsating vein rise and fall. He felt his heart rate quicken with the urge to bite down on his flesh and tear it to shreds with his fangs. It was like the doctor could hear his thoughts and feel the menace radiating from him, because he promptly pulled away, wrapping the stethoscope back around his neck a little too securely. Flippy didn't say anything, just leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms expectantly. The doctor looked at him, blinking slowly, and he raised an eyebrow in an attempt of intimidation. He nervously smiled, then picked up his clipboard and moved towards the door.

"How was it?" Splendid asked with a smile, easing onto the highway and accelerating slowly. He flicked his eyes over to Flippy, which meant he required an answer.

"Fantastic," Flippy scoffed, not feeling the need to ease back on the sarcasm.

Splendid nodded, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Splendid had picked him up from the hospital, per usual, insisting he be the one to calm Flippy down and not an innocent bystander. Not that Flippy minded too much; Splendid had a pretty nice car and usually let him talk him into buying him some food. Splendid was probably the closest thing to a friend Flippy had, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"You know, your doctor came out and talked to me."

"Yeah?" Flippy tried to convey interest.

"Yep, came out to the car. And I was parked pretty far away. Told me I should convince you to take some therapy."

"And?"

"I told him what to do."

"Which is?"

"To talk to you instead of me."

Flippy hid back a proud smile. "Then?"

"He gave me a look like he was wondering if I was serious or not."

Flippy gave a dry laugh, feeling smug, and Splendid chuckled slightly before clearing his throat and said, "He told me you really need it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm, said it would help you work out some…," he raised his index fingers off the wheel and moved them up and down, "…'issues'."

"Is that right."

"Yup. Even offered to help find one for you. Gave me a list, actually."

Splendid reached into the glove box, pulling out a folded piece of copy paper stapled together. He handed it to Flippy without moving his eyes from the road.

Flippy opened it, finding that there were actually 3 pages, all filled with names and numbers to call in bold, black ink, evenly spaced, very professional. He skimmed down all the names, sometimes nodding, sometimes making a "Hmm" or an "Ah". Splendid was quiet, focusing on the road and keeping a steely grip on the wheel. After he'd skimmed through all the names he set the paper down, extending his arms and raising his chin with a smirk.

"Well this is just lovely," he mused, folding the paper again. "He even wrote a note at the bottom saying he could get us a couple weeks for free."

Splendid didn't say anything.

They sat in silence once again; the only sounds the hum of the car and the hiss of the air conditioner fanning their faces. The sky was slowly fading into gray as the sun began to set, sending shades of pink and orange out in a corona. Flippy's apartment was on the outer limits of the city, far from the main attractions and bustling people. He watched the buildings and houses fade into nothing but sparse fields and wooded expansions, dark, skinny trees blotting the horizon and hiding the setting sun. A deep blue was forming like a blanket over the tops of the trees; it had gotten late much quicker than he expected.

When they turned onto his street, Splendid cleared his throat, turning off the air conditioner and slowing down. The car screeched to a halt in front of the driveway, the head lights illuminating the garage doors with two bright circles. Splendid put the car into park, then looked at Flippy, eyes serious.

Flippy looked at his hands, closing his eyes and taking a breath before looking back, hiding the scowl he'd worn all day.

"You're not going to look at that list again, are you?"

Flippy replied with the closest thing to honesty without sarcasm he could muster, "You know the answer."

"You won't take any advice, even if it will help you in the end."

"I don't need help."

"Everyone needs help."

"There are some things you can't fix."

Splendid's eyes flashed with something like sympathy for him for a split second, but Flippy wasn't sure as he quickly turned away, pressing the unlock button and replacing his hands on the wheel. Without another word he got out, slamming the door and going to the door as Splendid pulled away.

Flippy awoke in the middle of the night, sitting upright in bed, breathing heavily with sweat coating his skin. The TV he had forgotten to turn off flashed light on the room, casting shadows on his hands, shaking in his lap like two live wires. He felt his blood sludging under his skin, like water under ice, pumping like a drum in his chest. Everything was in hyper speed, spinning around him, and when he was awoken he felt as if he had just been chewed up and spitted out, landing face first into a cold, harsh reality. The stillness of the room begged his nerves to ease away, to let the silence comfort him and to stop the electricity burning in his body. It had been another nightmare, a bad one.

Images flashed in front of his eyes, assaulting his head with the things his dreams captivated him in. It was always the same thing; a field underneath a scarlet sky, bodies black as shadows and moving fast as light. He was standing in the middle of it all, on his knees, unable to move as gun shots exploded around him, black figure by figure falling and collapsing around him. A grenade and then blood splattered onto his face, running down his chin and dripping onto his chest. Two more shots and two more comrades lay still in front of him. He kept his eyes to the sky, looking anywhere but the ground, where the dead took on faces of the living and replayed scenes in his memory. He was frozen in place, then the ear splitting sounds of choppers overhead triggered his body into motion again. Once he was on his feet, it was all over. He was unstoppable. He watched himself tear through enemy after enemy, each taking on the faces of everyone he had ever killed. When it got to this part, he would be able to recognize he was dreaming. Yet if it got to this point, it meant he would have to see it, waking up excruciatingly out of reach. He would stop once everything was still around him, no more sounds, no more moving, just bodies piled and strewn all across the dirt. He was breathing heavily, sweat, dirt, and blood caked on his hands and arms. Then the sound of someone running, and he would turn and look only to be tackled to the ground. The assailant had the face of his most trusted friend, who he had just days before seen die in his arms, smiling with grim determination as he wrapped his hands around Flippy's neck. The image of those bloodthirsty eyes would keep him helpless on the ground, gasping for breath, trying to break free, and then it all coming to end when he would snap his head to the side. Then Flippy would wake up, breathless, heart racing. Like now, just like every night.

He sat like this for what seemed like hours, just staring at his hands and moving his fingers one by one. Only when he was down to normal palpitations and could no longer feel his heartbeat in his ears did he move to cover his face in his hands. Even in times like this, when he would awake engulfed in fear and on the brink of insanity, he refused to believe he needed any form of help. It was one thing to fix something that was broken, but another to try and fix something so completely destroyed there was no going back.

The next day, Flippy was out walking around the town, for once just taking the time to breathe. The past night's shock was still leaving his body, and he wanted to get out of his house and into a place so far away from his memories he would forget they even existed. He thought about calling Splendid, but decided against it when he remembered the events following his doctor appointment. He was 99.9% sure Splendid was less that amused at his complete disregard to the doctor's advice, but even now he wanted nothing more than to go back and punch that doctor right in his smug face. He made things hard for Splendid, thereby making his only chance at a stable, normal friend fall into the fatherly figure category. There was no escaping the inevitable, he mused silently to himself, walking the perimeter of the park where Pop and Cub played on the swings and Handy was fixing a leak in the local swimming pool. He didn't make eye contact, keeping his eyes down as he passed. No matter how long he lived in this town, he didn't have the ability inside him to even attempt social activity with the community. The only people allowed in his circle were Splendid and sometimes Lumpy, having gone to the same highschool together. He passed by Giggles and Cuddles, talking happily at an outdoor café. Giggles was talking about how she had met another guy, Cuddles excited and gushing over the possibility of new romance to be apart of. He heard it all as he passed by without saying a word, the breeze carrying a soft whistle through the trees and through his hair.

He thought back to the time before he was drafted, when he had actually led on a normal life and carried on like a normal human being. Not the estranged, killing machine he was now and would probably remain. He didn't have a girlfriend, or anything resembling a romantic relationship that was considered serious before he left. He had always been without luck with girls, much too reserved to make a move and always being dragged around by the tails of Splendid and some of the other guys. He wasn't bad looking, quite rugged and handsome actually, with a soft face and lean body. He just didn't feel anything. For anyone really. Companionship was something foreign to him, absent in his life even as a young child. It wasn't hard to imagine why he'd never made anything worth keeping with someone. Other than a shaky friendship with Splendid, he was alone.

Not that he minded, he realized as he continued to ponder. Trust was wasted effort, hope something that could be shattered in seconds. It was best to live in an eternal state of indifference, partly cynical and a little disconnected. It was better than the alternative, where nothing was for sure, where nothing was safe and he would always-

His thoughts were cut short when he felt someone collide into his chest and was thrown backwards, the wind leaving his lungs as he fell to the ground. He raised his head to spit an insult about how the person should watch where they were going but stopped when he saw who was in front of him. She was short and curvy, pale skin and thin wrists, soft auburn eyes on a face surrounded by a massive heap of curly red hair. She was shaking, and he noticed white flakes drifting down amongst the strands. She looked up at him, eyes wide and a clear look of horror playing on her features. She locked eyes with him, and they sat motionless for a moment, each scrambling for words but coming up blank.

She suddenly sprang up, arms thrown out wide and shoulders heaving.

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, I'M SO SORRY," she cried, gripping her head, causing another avalanche of white flakes to drift down. "I DIDN'T WATCH WHERE I WAS GOING AND I DROPPED MY PHONE AND IT SLID ON THE GROUND AND I DIDN'T LOOK UP AND-"

Whatever feelings of menace Flippy had been feeling immediately shut down as he watched the girl squirm in front of him. She was off on a tangent, waving her hands around and jumping on her heels. He flinched when she suddenly stopped, bowing her head and announcing, "I'M SORRY!" and ran away in the other direction. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure, and to notice the cell phone at his feet.


	2. Chapter 2: Revelations

Flippy stared up at the ceiling, absentmindedly turning the cell phone over in his hands. He had been laying on his couch, eyes up to the sky and fingers twisting and turning for the past three hours, trying to figure out what he was going to do next.

He still remembered the face of the girl clear as day; flushed cheeks, chocolate colored eyes, thin lips and creased brow, all wrapped around a pasty complexion and nervous twitching. Her hair, he now realized, was not actually covered in snow, but copious amounts of dandruff amidst the massive red strands. When she moved, the dandruff looked like snow flakes, swaying down gracefully, one after the other. She had been short, around 4'9", a little curvy with hips hidden by the oversized sweater she had hanging off her. She had been wearing a brown pleated skirt and long socks that covered her equally pasty legs, hanging down around the tennis shoes on her pigeon-toed feet. Her whole appearance was saturated in insecurity and anxiety so strong it was almost contagious, tiny hands that shook and pupils that darted back and forth.

She had been absolutely beautiful.

Flippy realized this with a gasp, feeling his cheeks begin to burn and his heart rate quicken. He had never felt anything like this before; for anyone. It felt new, terrifying. He didn't feel in control when he thought of her, and that was bad. Really, really bad. He had no idea what was going on inside him anymore, and why his feelings and thoughts no longer corresponded together. He had been virtually stoic; now he was experiencing it all.

He waited a while before caving in and finally opening the pink flip phone. He scanned the screen, the glowing numbers, the smooth design and relatively new feel, looking everywhere for something, anything, that would help him find out who she was. The background was a picture of the beach, highly edited, one of the customary images that come with the phone most likely. He clicked a button that took him to the phone's menu, a grid of applications and folders laid out before him. It took him less than two seconds to realize he was completely out of his element, and ran to the table to dial Splendid's number.

Flippy was anything but tech savvy. The world of electronics seemed to be something of a parallel universe to him. He had a phone himself that he rarely used, and only had it because it had been a gift from Lumpy. He was lucky just knowing how to turn the oven on and off. Splendid, on the other hand, was a technology wizard. All through highschool he sailed through technical classes and received several scholarships from technical colleges. When Flippy had problems with his TV, or his dishwasher, or even his lamp, Splendid was the one who could fix it. In Flippy's opinion, he was a better technician than Handy, who he wouldn't trust with screwing in a light bulb.

This turn of events led him to this situation now, with Splendid arriving at his house at around 8:30 pm.

"Well what have we here," Splendid murmured to himself, holding the pink phone in his hand and raising an eyebrow at it. He stood in the entryway, cold still hanging on his coat with the chill of the night. Much to Flippy's relief, Splendid seemed to have forgotten all about the list of numbers and the stare down that commenced in his car earlier that day.

"Just a little too girly for you, don't ya think?" He mused, dangling the phone and grinning at him. Flippy sighed, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"It's not mine."

"Huh?"

"I said it's not mine."

"Well then whose is it?"

"I don't know."

"What?" Splendid narrowed his eyes, cocking his head curiously. He seemed more suspicious than surprised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't know the person who owns the phone."

"Yes, I get that part," Splendid glared, rolling his eyes, "but why do you have it?"

"She dropped it when she ran into me."

Splendid's eyebrows shot straight up.

"Her?"

Flippy paused before nodding. "Yes, 'her'."

Splendid made his mouth in the shape of an 'O' and whistled heartily. "I see how it is. So you hit it off pretty well?"

"What?" Flippy felt his face flush, beginning to grow increasingly uncomfortable.

"Well yeah, usually you just get a girl's number, Flippy, but you got the whole fuckin' phone." He tossed the phone up in the air, watching it rise and fall before catching it again. "It's impressive."

"Don't be stupid," Flippy hissed, realizing he was being messed with in Splendid's sick sense of humor. "I have it because she ran off before I could give it back to her."

Splendid's face froze, as if he was suddenly deep in thought, before he erupted into laughter. He clutched at his stomach as he fell against the wall.

"Oh my God, are you serious?"

"What?"

"You really scared her off?"

"Scare her off? I don't think-"

"Shit, man! You're supposed to do the opposite! Is that why you called me over here? To help ease your guilt of terrifying a complete stranger and accidentally stealing her phone?"

Flippy, exasperated from trying, groaned loudly, stalking into the living room to sit back down on the couch, running his hands through his hair. Splendid followed slowly, quiet as he watched his friend attack his scalp.

"I need you…," Flippy began, feeling more and more aggravated at the whole situation by the minute, "…to help me find her."

"Huh?"

"I want to give the phone back! I don't know anything about cell phones, and I know you're the only guy who can help me."

There was a pause and Flippy settled his hands on his temples, trying to force his aching head into submission while also trying to hide a shameful blush. For a moment he wondered why he decided to call Splendid and not just find a way to do it himself, when he remembered the girl's face again. The image of her flickered across his mind, making him bury his head to hide the heat on his cheeks. What was going on with him?

There was a sigh from the recliner across him as Splendid sank down, crossing his legs and interlacing his fingers. Flippy looked up at him from between his fingers, unwilling to try and explain anything he was feeling.

Splendid's eyes stared into his, completely focused on something buzzing around in his head. He looked sure of something, but contemplated how to say it.

"Flippy," he said eventually, leaning his head back, "God Damnitt. Fine, I'll help you find her. If it really means that much to you. And I can tell it does."

Flippy smiled, relieved Splendid seemed to somewhat understand his loss of words and the direness of the situation, even if he himself had no idea why this was so important to him.

"Didn't think I'd be helping you out with something like falling in love with a complete stranger this late at night," Splendid admitted, "But stranger things have happened."

Flippy's head darted up, his mouth agape.

"Falling in lo- WAIT, WHAT?" He stammered, waving his hands around, "Splendid, I don't think you get what's really going on…"

"No, I don't think YOU understand what's REALLY GOING ON," Splendid snapped, submitting Flippy into silence. "You are way out of your element here, Flippy."

Flippy wanted to argue, to try and come up with an explanation other than that, but the red radiating off his cheeks contradicting everything he could come up with. He ran his hand through his hair one last time before looking at Splendid and nodding. He really was out of his element here. He had no idea how to classify half the things his mind and heart were telling him, and if he was going to work it all out he would need a hand. God forbid he actually be in love; an action he previously thought to be incapable of. They sat for a total of 13 minutes, Splendid pressing multiple buttons, his face illuminated from the screen before he pulled out his own phone and dialed a number.

"Splendid!" Cuddle's voice sang as the front door swung open. She stood on the porch as they turned into the driveway; silk pajamas and hair wrapped up in a towel atop her head, smiling broadly and holding out her arms. Splendid closed the distance between them, stopping to wrap his arms around her waist and lifting her up off the ground. She giggled loudly and raised her legs as he spun around, hugging him with the happiest expression Flippy had ever seen. He watched silently as he slammed the car door, putting his hands securely in his pockets. In the past, he took no notice of their relationship, but now it seemed strangely endearing watching them together. He recalled they had been dating for just a little more than over year now and still acted like middle school kids who had a crush on each other. Their romance was so bubble gum sweet it was impossible to hate.

She focused on Flippy, making him freeze in place. He had known Cuddles for years, but she had remained more of a harmless background noise than anything. In terms of appearances, she was a friend. But to Flippy, he felt the term acquaintance was more accurate.

"Hey, Flippy!" She exclaimed happily as Splendid set her down, still holding on to her waist. "Splendid called and said you guys needed my help?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah," Flippy coughed, looking anywhere but her or Splendid, who was being obnoxious and refusing to explain the situation for him. "I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at something."

There was a long and rather awkward pause before she nodded and said, "Y'all come on inside and I'll take a look."

They followed her up the steps, entering the bright blue entryway lined with white trim. The halls were covered with photos on the wall and potted plants that stuck to your clothes when you walked past them. The whole house was warm and smelled like raison bread, oddly enough, with all the walls a soft shade of pink, yellow, or baby blue. The few times Flippy had been inside it, he had been inexplicably reminded of a doll house. Once in the living room (equally as blue and floor equally as white) they sat down on her off-yellow couches, Flippy in the arm chair and Cuddles and Splendid on the love seat. She shook her hair from the towel and snuggled up to him, gripping his arm before she looked at Flippy expectantly.

He rustled through his pocket and withdrew the phone, outstretching his arm

"You see," Splendid said, resting his head back and stretching his arms, "We were wondering if you knew who owned this phone. Flippy…accidentally…acquired it and we found your number in the contacts. It's kind of important."

"Is that so," she hummed, a sly, interested smile creeping up her cheeks. "Tell me more."

"Well, let's just say we need to hurry and find out who it is before Flippy reverts back to his usual asexual-ness."

Flippy glared at him, suddenly wishing he could use his eyes like magnifying glasses under the sun.

"I see… I know exactly who owns this phone. In fact, we went out to lunch earlier today." Cuddles' tone was coy as she pondered. "That new Italian place by the park?"

Flippy was suddenly interested, leaning forward on his elbows. "Really?" His thoughts were spinning at the idea of being able to piece the puzzle together; the feeling of getting closer to knowing who she was almost exhilarating.

"Yeah. She's a good friend of mine, actually. So adorable, how shy she always is. Real sweet, too. We go way back."

She looked lost in the past, reminiscing fondly while spinning the antenna in her fingers.

"Tell me, Flippy, did you run into her or something?"

Flippy squirmed uncomfortably.

"I see. Did you get a good look at her?"

He nodded slowly.

"Did you like what you saw?"

He felt himself bristle, every part of his skin turning bright pink. He cleared his throat, trying to swallow the lump that was threatening his breathing.

Cuddles giggled smugly before softening her face.

"This is my friend Flaky's phone."

Splendid's face suddenly lit up, his eyes growing wide and lips parting. A mixture of things flashed in his features as Flippy focused his eyes on him, furrowing his brow.

"No way," he half laughed.

"What?" Flippy and Cuddles both said at the same time.

"It's just…wow, no way."

"What!" Cuddles insisted, scooting closer and resting her head on his shoulder. Flippy sat silently, his stomach beginning to sink as he watched Splendid's face.

"I actually, um, I just remembered I have something to do." He stood up abruptly, looking at Flippy with a face that said it was time to go. He barely had time to react before he was making his way to the door.

"Aw, really," Cuddles whined, standing up at the same time as Flippy and crossing the room in stride, "Do you really have to go?"

He turned and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her a half hearted smile.

"Yeah, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Thank you for your help."

She pouted her lower lip, looking up at him from under her lashes and frowning slightly. He grinned a little wider and leaned down, placing a kiss on her lips. Flippy waited patiently, turning away when they didn't break apart after a moment.

"Alright then," she shrugged, smiling sweetly and reaching up to hug him. "Here."

She placed the phone in Flippy's palm, folding his fingers over it and squeezing slightly. Her smile was soft as she said, "Good luck, Flippy."

They left the house with a brief goodbye and another kiss from Splendid, then waved as Cuddles closed the door and shut off the porch light. They walked back to the car in the dark. Flippy thought for a moment, a thousand unanswered questions and bundles of disappointment swirling in his head. Splendid was equally as quiet, silently starting the car and waiting until Flippy was settled before shifting into reverse.

After a few minutes, he opened his mouth.

"Splendid, what was all that about?"

"Hmm?"

"Flaky, how do you know her?"

He grinned, the street lights lighting up his face as they passed under them.

"Ah, you figured me out," he chuckled darkly.

Flippy didn't say anything, waiting for Splendid to initiate explaining instead of him having to drag it out.

"I knew Flaky in college."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm."

"And why did you not want Cuddles to know?"

He sighed, lowering his face. Flippy saw a glint of a smile as they passed under a green light.

"God Flippy, you see through everything."

Silence again; then he cleared his throat.

"We met during my freshman year, but didn't get very close. She took off somewhere, transferred to an art school I think, but for a while we were friends."

"But…"

"But, I didn't want to just be friends."

The blood in Flippy's veins stopped pumping. The bad feeling in his stomach had transformed into side splitting turmoil.

"I used to love her," he confessed slowly, his voice timid as he continued, "It was a long time before I met Cuddles. She didn't like me, though, and shot me down."

The car was deathly silent again.

"A long time ago," Splendid repeated after a few minutes, his voice almost a whisper on his lips.

Flippy didn't want to comprehend Splendid's words, just wanted it to be a lie and for him to not realize the soul crushing truth presenting itself to him. A long time ago, Splendid and Flaky, who he now knew was the girl he met on the street and was now unconditionally infatuated with, had known each other, and Splendid had loved her. And Flaky had turned his offer, however it may have played out, down completely. If there wasn't a chance for Splendid, what hope was there for him? And even if a slight chance of hope was there, what was he supposed to do with knowing his best, and only, friend had loved her first?


	3. Chapter 3: Solar System

The phone had been ringing all day. Flippy hadn't answered, pretending that he wasn't home; pretending the person calling believed he wasn't home. He pretended he had better things to do, pretended to think laying on his couch all day was something "better"; that staring at the ceiling, which was now becoming his regular acquaintance, was something considered productive. Occasionally, he would look down at the phone in his hands, laying it on his stomach sometimes or fingering it, smoothing his fingers on the metallic sides and continually re-learning the device. It never got boring to him.

It had been 2 days since Splendid had dropped the bomb on everything. His usual excitement and anticipation had been replaced with doubt and worry. The feeling of confusion for what he was feeling and initial ignorance had all been eradicated, because he saw no point in lying to himself any longer. He felt something, whatever this something was, for this girl. This wasn't all in his imagination, and he didn't just want to return the phone. He wanted to see her. He wanted to meet her once more. And after Splendid's confession, he doubted whether he would ever get to.

It wasn't Splendid's fault, he knew that. He knew the underlying problem stemmed from his own insecurity. The insecurity that he wasn't good enough to take part in something so normal, so worth while, that he would never pass the inspection of loving someone. He remembered he was broken, and he remembered his usual isolation. It beckoned to him, begging him to come back. He could just as easily give the phone to Cuddles and be done with the whole thing. But it was also just as easy to listen to the voice that refused to be quiet inside him. It had never spoken before, not since he'd met this girl and not since he'd been drafted. It only spoke to him when he faced death those first few months in Afghanistan; when he was looking down the barrel of a gun aimed at his head and became aware of how fragile his mortality really was. He only felt its presence when the nightmares at night drove him to the bottom of rabid depressions and when he looked at the razor blades beneath the sink a little too long. It was the voice of hope; of believing there was something better to come and something worth living for. It was the only light at the end of the long tunnel he endlessly walked through. And for those brief moments, when he'd looked into the girl's eyes and she had looked back, he had seen that light.

It had been there, it had existed, if only for a few seconds. And that was enough for him. Now, he felt the loneliness. It was a feeling he had refused to acknowledge, because he didn't have anything to regret losing. Now that he had felt excitement and let himself ever so slightly begin to feel, did it come back to bite him, and with a vengeance.

He knew Splendid wanted to talk to him, to offer more advice and maybe try and clear the air. He knew he was out of his element with this whole thing. But the one time he had submitted to asking for help, he was reminded why it was such a horrible idea. If he wanted to live in no expectations, he would need to do things on his own. And the last thing he wanted to hear from Splendid was an apology.

He closed his eyes, allowing his breathing to slow and his muscles to relax. He squeezed the phone in his hand, silently promising himself that he would find an alternative on his own; one that wouldn't awaken any more of these feelings.

That night, Flippy dreamed of the solar system. Once he had closed his eyes and sunk into oblivion, he was sitting in a field, enclosed by grass taller than his head. There was no sun in the sky, not a trace of clouds floating above, just a golden sky sprinkled with swirling shades of yellow. The grass was swaying, though there was no wind, brushing against his skin, chafing and scratching. Yet he didn't move; just sat, head upturned to the sky, looking relatively peaceful. Yet the air carried a feeling of menace, an ominous knot growing and bubbling in the bottom of his stomach, burning like acid. He was silent, and he realized he was missing something, yet didn't know what.

The grass suddenly began to move viciously in the invisible breeze, slashing his skin and growing sharper, drawing blood on his exposed arms. The cuts were stinging, and right as he reached a hand up to gingerly touch the blood away, he felt his stomach drop completely. He didn't think; just stood up and ran in the other direction. There was no one around, there were no roads or paths to follow, only a wide expanse of the never ending grass which parted as he ran through it. He didn't know what he was running from, but he knew whatever it was, it wanted to hurt him. It wanted to break every bone in his body and watch him bleed on the dirt. It wanted to destroy his heart and set fire to his body. There was a series of pops, like the cracking sounds when you pop your knuckles, and stars exploded underneath his eyes and resonated through his skull. The best he could manage was to fall back, crashing to the ground and rolling over, face to the sky, as more stars assaulted his vision. The auburn sky became a dark blue, and he saw what he could only describe as the universe lowering itself onto him, swallowing him whole; scattered clusters of shining stars and milky swirls in shades of the rainbow far from where he floated. It was cold, weightless, and alone. He remembered being a child, learning about the earth and the surrounding planets, sitting in class and soaking in the information like a sponge, eager to know the world around him. He remembered he used to love stars, used to love the planets, used to love constellations and black holes and comets. And he remembered what he was missing: he no longer cared for the stars. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the swirling, to stop the chaos spinning in his mind. He knew he was dreaming now, but this revelation only made the world he was acting in fill with more terror. He felt himself pass through some of the stars; concentrated white hot intensity passing through his body and sizzling his skin. It reminded him of bullet wounds. He felt his body surrounded by panic as stars exploded around him, the power of a super nova pushing him back so hard it was like his body was imploding on itself. It was similar to bombs. And through it all, everything was icy cold. His skin was frozen, blood stilled, fingers and toes stiff and impossible to move. The shivering racked his body; feelings like tiny spiders were trying to crawl their way through his skin all over. He was unable to cry, to speak, to move. He was alone, and he couldn't cry out for help. Out in space, floating forever in agony, passing through nothingness for all eternity…

Flippy woke up.

The following morning, Flippy didn't eat. He wasn't hungry, and even if he was he doubted he could keep the food down. After sitting up in bed for an hour straight, covered in a cold sweat and gasping for air, food was the last thing he was concerned about.

He walked into the living room, eyes resting on the pink cell phone laying on the coffee table. He stood in silence for a long time, in the doorway to the living room in plaid pajamas and no shirt, staring blankly. He considered his options, looked at everything from every angle, breathed for a moment and cleared his head. It wasn't hard to come to a decision.

His life had been one reoccurring nightmare. Ever since returning home, each day had been monochrome. He was void of feelings, his heart becoming nothing more than a forcefully beating organ, good only for making the cold blood flow through his body. He felt nothing, said nothing, did nothing; like wading through water 24/7. And he had felt so unbearably alone, so isolated from anything warm or happy. He had created a world of his own to reside in while he watched the real world pass him by, waiting to become dust in the wind. Because when you have nothing to live for, why hope for another day? But now, looking at the phone on his table, early sun shine pouring in from the blinds over the windows, he saw the light he had seen in Flaky's eyes. It became clear this was the only opportunity he had seen for a new life in 2 years. For once, he felt like he had a reason to continue living, even if it was only if to return a cell phone to a complete stranger he had only met a week ago and who he'd fallen in love with. He didn't know if this love was real, or if it was just a feeling similar to a child getting to have his own allowance for the first time; a new opportunity to feel alive, to take charge. He didn't care about the past anymore and didn't care about living in the shadow of Splendid. He didn't care about running from anything that made him feel human anymore. He didn't care about the soul crushing guilt on his shoulders or the voice that told him he'd never be good enough, worth enough, to be normal. There was nothing Flippy wanted more in this world than to find the part of him that still loved the solar system.

He grabbed his jacket off the chair, taking the phone in his hand and going out to his car.


	4. Chapter 4: Second Encounter

Everything was going to be just fine. It was all good. It was all fine.

Flippy turned the steering wheel slowly, feeling the temperature in the car rising along with his heart beat. It pounded in his ears, making his chest heave and his lungs clench. Flippy hadn't felt like this in a long time, or, in fact, never before. It felt strange to him; having his heart exploding in his chest even though he didn't really know why. He was nervous, but about what? What was the worst that could happen? Why was he feeling high off adrenaline and frozen with nerves?

He eased to a stop at a stop light, taking a steady breath and keeping a shaky foot on the brake. Yes, everything was going to be fine.

Things went over pretty smoothly with Cuddles. Flippy knew there was no way he could work himself up to facing Splendid, so he took the alternative. She didn't ask any questions when he showed up at her house; just went inside and came back with a piece of paper, an address scribbled on it in black marker. She had smiled at him, reaching up to hug him before he turned to leave.

"I don't know what happened with you and Splendid," she had whispered, "but I won't tell him. And I expect you won't tell me anything I don't need to know."

Flippy had drawn back to look at her, surprised. Sometimes, just sometimes, Cuddles would do something he didn't expect. He realized, as she smiled with a bittersweet look in her eyes, that she was smarter than she let on. That was the only time he felt empathetic towards her or anyone else. He could completely relate to the feeling of blind faith.

The car roared as he eased onto the highway, accelerating to a speed far above the speed limit. It was getting dark, not many cars were out. The town was getting quiet and settling down, nightlights and streetlights following his trail like a swarm of fireflies. The air was warm and only slightly humid, a sweet smell of domestic living circulating through his air conditioner. It was all so peaceful, all so quiet and simple; and it was this fact that made Flippy's skin buzz and his ears perk up. The silence felt like laughter, just begging him to find a way to break it. If only he had words, and if only he didn't feel so confused. Really, what is it? Why had he gotten so worked up after just bumping into a stranger on the street, by coincidentally ending up with their phone? What about this girl, Flaky, was it that made his throat close up and his blood stop pumping? What about her made the soldier inside him shrivel up and leave him naked, bare, and defenseless? He remembered Splendid's words, as this was usually what his mind circled back to. He was incapable of love, he was so sure. But apparently Splendid didn't see it, proclaiming he was just following the current of infatuation. But Flippy hadn't even known he was riding the waves, he thought he was still sitting on the shore where nothing could touch him.

He was just fine, right?

He was still himself, right?

The piece of paper felt like lead in his lap. Cuddles' writing was sloppy, but he could still clearly make out the address: "1215 Meadowlark"

Meadowlark was out past his house, which made him feel even more uncomfortable. He knew the roads perfectly with a well written mental map etched into his brain, and anytime he closed his eyes he could see where he was, where he was going, and what he needed to do to get there. He had acquired this skill in the army, when he was so lost out in the wilderness he couldn't tell left from right, up from down. He had learned to see without necessarily using his eyes. He had developed a way to track his steps and feel out his location by just touch and instinct. And driving to Flaky's house felt dangerously close to instinct. He just hoped at the end of it all, he would find Flaky, and not the usual army of terrorists waiting to slice his neck at the other side.

It was just a little past seven when Flippy turned onto the dirt road, rocks crushing under the wheels and scattering in all directions. He looked at the house in front of him, taking in every last little detail.

It was one story, brick, and had a tiled roof. The windows were double paned, covered in blinds and outlined in white. A wooden porch wrapped around the front; a small table and some lawn chairs placed on it like a ransack dinner table. A blossoming blue hydrangea plant in a yellow pot sat next to the wooden front door, illuminated by the stream of light shining through the pained glass running down the middle. The lawn was healthy, a little wild, and a few decorated stones led up to the front porch, the grass curling and winding underneath.

The green mile, he thought grimly to himself.

A wind chime hanging from the gutters made a ghostly ringing sound in the silent breeze, sending chills down Flippy's spine. It was all so inviting, yet so incredibly off putting.

He drove up slowly, flicking off the headlights when he realized they would be shining right on the windows. For some reason, he felt like he was doing something he shouldn't be doing. Like he was breaking the law or standing too close to the edge. Like a child trying to sneak a cookie out of the cookie jar before dinner time. He felt out of place, disgustingly sly, almost criminal. If he knew what was good for him, he thought, he would just drop the phone at the door, ring the doorbell, and drive like hell and never come back. He turned the car off and stepped out onto the lawn.

The sound of distant cicadas enveloped him, darkness shielding his eyes. The moon was high above, partly waning, leaning towards the stars as they shined around it. It cast a shadow on Flippy's footsteps until he stepped into the light of the doorway, immediately feeling a change of temperature. It was warm, and sank into his clothing like a warm splash of water. His blood boiled with anxiety, and he reached into his pocket to squeeze the phone, as it had become a habit of his. When had it become like a security blanket? He came to a stop just before the welcome mat, whose bristles even looked strangely inviting.

And he stood there. He couldn't move for a moment, frozen in place. He had been forcing his body to move this whole time, and now he took the time to stop and contemplate where he was and what exactly he was doing. He looked around him, looked through himself, looked to the past and the future, looked to what he wanted to happen and what he feared would happen, both seeming very similar. It was no longer about the phone anymore; it hadn't been for a long time. It was about him and his ability to actually decide what he wants. All his life he'd been told what he wanted, been given only one option to choose above all the others. It was life or death, fight or flight. He was shedding the skin of the soldier and slipping on the clothes of a human being.

He flinched when he heard a noise from inside and a shadow crossed the window. It was now or never, he realized, maybe a bit too dramatically. It took him three tries, but he finally managed to steady his finger enough to ring the doorbell.

It took a total of three and a half minutes for Flaky to answer the door. In those three and a half minutes, Flippy had been squirming under the heat of his own skin and helplessly trying to moisten his dry mouth. He took a deep breath, and then the sound of a shaking key hole and an opening door frame made him start. There in front of him, in long pajama pants and a white robe stood Flaky. Her eyes were wide and brown, confused and curious, a little frightened looking as she focused her eyes on him. She looked much shorter now in her bare feet and mass of red hair pulled back into a bun. Flakes settled at her feet as she stilled. She wore a white tank top that hung off her shoulders, a purple headband that barely managed to keep the hair from her face. The inside looked to be bathed in warm colors, melting the coolness of the night they stood in.

And she was just as beautiful as she had been the first time Flippy had seen her.

Time froze, and they stood in silence. Not looking, but seeing.

Flaky didn't know anymore than Flippy what to think. A stranger here at her doorstep at 7 at night, a dark green jeep parked in her driveway? What could she possibly make of it, given the initial shock and the complete loss of any explanation? The two one time acquaintances looked into each other's eyes for the second time in their lives, each seeing what the other didn't know how to hide. Vulnerability and loneliness surrounded by an outward persona of apathy. Insecurity that only they could feel, worry only they could conjure up. It was all there, displayed perfectly in their eyes. Flippy saw two paths in front of him, one he had traveled each time and one barely used. Flaky saw something she wasn't used to seeing; someone showing her their real, raw insides, making her feel like the one judging. She realized very slowly she recognized the green hair and moss colored eyes. Flippy had no trouble remembering, and was only embracing the image like a refreshing breeze.

A wall stood between them now. Two strangers and the way they interact interspeckled with a strange attraction. A thin line connected their two hearts, somehow, and they both felt it clear and striking as day.

It was mystifying and terrifying. It was so broken and so complete. It was so confusing yet so crystal clear. All it took to shatter the wall between them was a small step forward, a raised arm that held a little pink cell phone, and a voice that said,

"I think you dropped this."


	5. Chapter 5: Red String

The house was surprisingly calm. Inside, the temperature was much warmer and a lot less humid. The small roar of a heater buzzed in Flippy's ears and from a room hidden by a wall he could hear a leaky sink dripping and the hum of a dishwasher. There was a methodical ticking coming from a clock hanging on the wall above him; the kind with the little doors on the face that opened when the hour mark rang, outlined by a floral design in yellow paint. The walls were white and the floor was covered in a soft dark maroon carpet. All the furniture inside was cherry colored wood, very simple, a couch with an afghan thrown over the back in the corner and two separate arm chairs. A coffee table covered in magazines and cup holders sat in the middle, a remote to the switched off TV atop National Geographic's Penguins in the Arctic. A side table held a blue, glass lamp that lit up the whole room brightly and in an ambient shade resembling ocean water. Three picture frames hung on the walls, two above him and the other two across him. They showed pictures of sunsets and sunrises atop national and foreign monuments, and a group of really happy looking people smiling with sunglasses on in each one.

It was all so domestic, all so cozy. It smelled of tea and chicken soup. It reminded Flippy of grandparent's houses and small hotel rooms. The pillows he sat between were silky on his skin, the couch sinking in with his weight and cradling him softly.

Flaky walked into the room carrying two cups of iced tea, her face blank and extremely hard to read. She shuffled over to the table and extended an arm out, and Flippy sat up and reached for the glass. He froze when their hands brushed together, condensation from the ice rolling over their fingers. She quickly drew away, sitting in a chair opposite him and cradling her glass in her lap. The seconds ticked away as Flippy took a nervous sip of tea. It was bitter and made his tongue go dry. Or maybe that was just the nerves?

A few minutes of air full of tangible tension passed before Flaky cleared her throat.

"Thank you for coming all the way out here," she said, glancing up at Flippy. He felt his face drain completely and his hands go numb.

"Um, no, I should be… no, it's nothing. I really should have returned it sooner." He was doing his best not to stammer, and was realizing he was failing miserably trying to come up with a steady stream of words.

Flaky sat for a moment, just looking at him, until she spoke in a slightly darker tone, "How long did you have my phone again?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Uh…ever since we bumped into each other, which was um…about 2 weeks ago." Flippy realized this as he spoke; wanting to shoot himself in the foot for just now seeing how long he'd had the phone.

Flaky's eyes were soft in front of him, so brown and devastatingly beautiful he found himself looking away when he said what came naturally.

"I was nervous."

"Nervous?"

"Yes, nervous to come here. Nervous to find you and return it."

Another pause.

"Why would you be nervous?"

Flippy glanced at her, hoping Flaky could see what he wasn't saying. He prayed she could see what his heart was doing to him and still respect him enough to carry on this conversation.

She nodded, a pink tinge filling her cheeks.

"I don't exactly get it," she said slowly, "but I don't mind it at all. The fact that you had it for so long, I mean. Because it eventually brought you here and I'm really glad it did."

She looked everywhere but him. "For some reason."

Flippy smiled against his own will, covering his mouth with another sip. So Flaky, even if she didn't explain it, felt the strange connection as well. And that was enough for him.

Two hours passed before Flippy got up to leave. For two hours they slowly broke more and more of the wall down; the wall that stood between two strangers who were trying to become acquainted. They broke down the wall with general sentences and comments about irrelevant things, talking about the weather, what they liked to do, what they did in their free time, what they thought about things like seasons and days of the week. Nothing heavy or deep, just light taps against the glass that caused cracks and chips to fall. And little by little, their guards began to fall as well and the silence was broken, and they opened up and decided to take baby steps. It was strange and a little terrifying, a new take for both of them to try. But brief smiles and slight glances made the fear in their heads slowly melt away. They felt like puzzle pieces, coming together for the first time.

When Flippy was about to cross the threshold into the night, he turned to look at Flaky one last time. She was following close behind, holding onto the door handle to pull the door out of his way. She was so small compared to him, only coming up to his shoulders and face so rounded. Her feet were at least three sizes smaller than his, and he could easily cover her hands with his fingers. It made him feel that much taller, that much less intimidated and that much more gentle. He was about to open his mouth when he felt a small tug at the bottom of his jacket. He looked down just in time to see Flaky's small fingers clasping the zipper, pulling it up and zipping it just below his collar bone.

"It's cold outside," she murmured, face red as her hair. Flippy stilled when she didn't pull away.

"…Have you ever heard of something called the red string of fate?" She began, staring at her fingers as they gripped his jacket.

"Um, I don't think so," Flippy said, picking his brain for a second with no results. "Why, what is it?"

"It's an ancient Chinese legend," she explained slowly, twisting her fingers a little around the metal, "I had a book of legends and myths when I was little, and my dad used to read it to me when I couldn't sleep at night. One of the legends in it was of the red string of fate. According to the story, Yue Xia Lao, the Chinese god of marriage, ties an invisible red string around the ankles of men and women, and when he does that the two people are destined to be together, kind of like soul mates. The two people connected by the red thread are destined to be together regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread can stretch or tangle, but it can never break."

Flaky recited the whole tale without pausing, as if she gave a speech on it everyday. Flippy was starting to understand as Flaky trailed off, her voice growing softer and softer until it faded completely. Here in the dim glow of Flaky's porch light, with the stars shining above and the hum of crickets in the yard, he could imagine a legendary red string between the two of them. He didn't need the legend to be real to feel it. With a smile he placed his hands on her shoulders; she looked up and finally met his eyes.

"Do you believe in these stories?"

"No, uh, yes. I mean, kind of, but no, I mean…"

She was stammering, shifting on the balls of her feet. Flippy chuckled softly before slowly bringing a hand to her cheek. He brushed his knuckles just underneath her eyelashes, relishing the soft feeling of her skin and the twitches in her eyelids. Had Flaky not accidentally slipped on the door handle and caught her balance clumsily, Flippy realized he might have narrowed the distance between them even more.

"I'll, uh, see you tomorrow then?" He said, quickly stepping away.

"I will?" She looked surprised.

"Uh, I mean, I hope to see you tomorrow. Or soon. Or you know, whenever your free or in town or something."

"That sounds good."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Um, I'll text you I guess…"

"That's fine, yeah."

"Okay cool."

"Yeah, okay."

"Kay."

"Yep."

"Mmhmm."

They stood there a moment before both burst out into fits of giggles. Flippy waved goodbye as he made his way to his car, Flaky waiting in the doorway until he drove away. Flippy found himself happier on that particular drive home than he had been in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6: Checkered Chinese

The day after Flippy first visited Flaky at her house, Flippy found himself walking with a little skip in his step. And, for God's sake, he was even humming as he was making himself some coffee that morning. He moved about the kitchen enthusiastically, not caring at all how cold the floor was on his bare feet and him only in his boxers. He accidentally poured too much milk in the mug, so the coffee looked more like a cup of soft hazel tea than a black cup of Joe. But he couldn't be bothered as he took a sip, almost vomited, and then poured it down the drain. Not even a little.

He got dressed and left his house around 10 a.m., deciding to go buy some coffee at the café down the street instead of trying to make some again. He had thought about making a piece of toast, but when he almost left his fork in the microwave heating up the milk he realized that wasn't a smart decision. He realized seconds before opening the front door his shirt was on backwards, he hadn't brushed his hair, and he wasn't even wearing pants. He knew he was out of it today, but couldn't find a reason to care, much less change it. He arrived at the little café, ordered his drink of choice (latte, no whipped cream, black with little cream), smiled widely at the barista who watched him walk away with a furrowed brow, and then went and sat down on the veranda outside. The sun was shining above, rays of sweet, skin tingling heat beating down in the early hours of the day. It would be scorching later on, but now the air felt perfect. The clouds looked perfect in the sky, the grass looked perfect in the yards, the concrete looked perfect under his feet, the people walking by looked perfect. Hell, even the cracked glass table he sat his drink down on and almost spilled when his knee hit the edge was perfect.

Today wasn't just perfect because he had finally been face to face with Flaky, or because she didn't slam the door in his face and call the police, or because he actually came to terms with the weird sensation of "love" as Splendid called it, or because he had given the startled barista a generous tip. It was perfect because that night, for the first time, Flippy hadn't had a nightmare. In fact, his dream was pleasant; the kind that you wake up from smiling and stay with you the rest of the day.

Flippy had driven home in silence, taken a lengthy shower, letting the steam roll off his body, and collapsed on the bed, relieved to finally put all his nerves from the day to rest. He didn't remember when exactly he drifted into the abyss of sleep, but one minute he was face first in linen sheets and the next in a black and white room.

He was sitting on the floor, the walls and ceiling completely white and smooth as glass. It reminded him of science labs and contagion safety rooms. The only other color was the black and white checkered pattern on the floor that indicated where the floor stopped and the walls began. There was no door and no windows. It was completely silent, everything still as ice. He sat there in the room, staring off into space and running his hands up and down the wall, not feeling anything particular at all; just breathing in and out.

_In and out…_

_In and out…_

_In and out…_

Then he heard a scraping sound, and he turned around to see Flaky on the other side of the room, sitting cross legged, mirroring him. She didn't say anything, just stared with a sweet smile on her face, skin almost as pale as the walls around them. Flippy was silent as well as he locked eyes on her, feeling weightless and infinite now that Flaky was there. Everything felt right, and the room seemed to grow a little warmer, cozier, the lights coming from nowhere a little brighter. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, Flaky was looking at the floor, her hands scraping at one of the black tiles. Her hands were over turned, nails caught, arms strained trying to lift. He watched as the tile came up with a little pop, Flaky lifting it up and placing it in her lap. She reached over and touched the wall behind her, and her hand came away covered completely in what looked like white paint. She looked down at the board swallowing her lap and began to scribble something with her white index finger. Flippy watched patiently, more intrigued with watching her than the fact that she had just pulled a part of the floor up and conjured liquid of some sort from the wall. She cocked her head to the side as she gracefully moved her finger about, the back of the tile hiding her hands and covering part of her shoulder. The look on her face resembled the look a mother has when holding her newborn child or the look an old widow has when she's sitting on the porch watching the sun set. She paused, looked the board over, and then turned it to face Flippy. In elegant white letters, he read-

"你看到的字符串？"

He had no idea how he understood what it said or how he had ever acquired the ability to read Chinese, but he did somehow, and it made complete and perfect sense.

Following in Flaky's footsteps, he reached over to grip a black tile and found it gave way under his hands. Tentatively, he touched his right hand to the wall, feeling it sink in a little and pulling away to see his hand completely covered in white. He put his fingers on the board and watched as they began to write. He didn't exactly know what he was doing but each stroke felt right and with each finished character he understood the words.

He flipped the board over to face Flaky-

"這對我們雙方都。"

She smiled as her eyes skimmed the writing, and her smile was the most beautiful thing Flippy had ever seen. He didn't remember much that happened after that, but he knew they continued writing and reading each others notes for what seemed like an eternity; an eternity that was much too short.

It had been such a lovely dream; Flippy was almost upset when he opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm and birds outside his window. Almost.

Now he sat in the iron chairs outside of the coffee shop, watching the clouds and people roll by. Only when his phone buzzed in his pocket did he feel his attention return back to earth. Pulling it out, he saw a number on the screen he didn't recognize. Too happy to care, he touched the answer key.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is this Flippy?" The sound of the familiar voice almost made Flippy spit out the coffee he had sipped. It was just as sweet sounding as it was in person, if not a little higher pitched.

"Yes?"

"Oh okay. This is Flaky." Flippy tried not to laugh at the obviousness of her statement, smiling just a little too wide for public comfort.

"Yeah, hey Flaky. What's up?"

"Um, I was wondering if you were maybe free the day after tomorrow." She sounded nervous, and Flippy imagined her blushing on the other end of the phone. "I mean, you said you were hoping we could meet up later this week or whatever and I don't have anything to do that day and I don't want to just over step your boundaries by asking and we really just met yesterday and I know this is crazy but I was wondering, and feel free to say no, but-"

"Flaky," Flippy interrupted gently, "its okay, just ask me. I'll tell you if anything is wrong." And he meant it.

There was a pause as she breathed out a sigh.

"Do you maybe want to go get a cup of coffee?"

Flippy couldn't care less where they went, just that she had asked.

"Of course."

"Ok- wai- what? Really?"

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Uh, oh, okay. S-sounds good. I guess just meet me in town around-"

"How about I pick you up?"

"Wha- huh?" Flaky's voice squeaked.

"Yeah, how about I come and pick you up at your house?"

"Uh, n-no that's okay, don't trouble yourself coming all the way out here again-"

"It's no trouble."

"B-but, I mean-"

"Do you not want me to?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Then I'll come pick you up. How's 10:30 sound?"

There was another pause on the other end of the line.

"10:30 sounds perfect."

Flippy's sentiments exactly.

"Okay then. Oh, and I'm paying."

"WH-what? No your not!"

"Oh?" He queried.

"You do NOT have to pay for me, I have money. Please don't-"

"I know you are capable of paying for yourself, but I want to pay for you."

"B-but why?"

"Because if you pay for yourself it wouldn't be a date."

The end was silent once again. Flippy could practically feel the heat radiating off Flaky's cheeks through the phone. But it couldn't compare to the feeling reverberating inside his chest.

"Oh…well I guess that's alright then."

Flippy laughed, Flaky giggling too.

"Okay then, I'll see you the day after tomorrow."

"Yes." She sounded enthusiastic.

"Alright."

"Hey, Flippy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Flippy felt his stomach twist.

"No problem."

"Hey, Flippy?"

"Yes?"

"I can't wait for the day after tomorrow."

The smile on Flippy's face was the smuggest grin that side of the planet.

"Me neither."

They hung up, and Flippy downed the rest of his now-cold coffee.

As he walked back to his house, he realized that this really was kind of crazy. He meets a stranger, gets a hold of her phone, keeps it for a couple days, gets his friend's help finding her, goes to her house, then two days later they have plans to go get a cup of coffee. Then again, Flippy never was one for the mundane.

Only when he was home with the door closed and the TV on with his feet on the table did the rain come down on his parade. He was in the middle of a particularly interesting episode of NCIS when there was a knock at the door. He didn't have to look outside to know who it was just by the way they knocked. He didn't have to get up, because they would be coming inside of their own accord. He also knew it didn't matter that the front door was locked, because it had never stopped them before. He took another bite from the bowl of chips in his lap before he heard the sound of the door opening and closing, then the soft footsteps making their way to the living room.

"Nice try with the locked door," Splendid said, appearing in the middle of the room.

"Wasn't trying anything."

"Yes you were."

"I don't know what your talking about." He took another chip in his mouth, looking directly at the TV without meeting Splendid's eyes.

"You can't blame me for not believing you."

Splendid took a seat in his usual arm chair opposite the sofa and steepled his fingers.

"I'm sorry."

"Hmm?" Flippy glanced over at him.

"I said I'm sorry."

"Yes, I heard you the first time. Why is what I don't understand?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

"I do?"

"Yes, Flippy! You do!" He reached over and grabbed the TV remote, switching off the TV.

Flippy sighed as he sat up, finally meeting Splendid's eyes. He looked a little tired, his blue hair tousled on top of his head.

"Look, I know your mad Flippy. But I didn't mean anything when I told you about me and Flaky. I was just trying to be honest-"

"I'm not mad."

Splendid furrowed his brow.

"Liar."

"What?"

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

Flippy sat up straighter as he said, "Splendid I am not lying!"

"Then why did you ignore all my calls?"

He froze and Splendid's eyes were daggers on him.

"And don't give me some bull shit about how you didn't know, because I called you several times and each one didn't get past the second ring."

A stare down commenced between the two of them as Flippy began to realize just how distressed Splendid was about this. For the first time he felt a pang of guilt in his heart.

"I just needed some time to myself," he explained.

"Well you could have told me that!"

"I'm sorry."

"Christ, Flippy! You had me all worried and shit!"

"I know, but I wasn't trying to. What you told me about Flaky made me have to rethink a couple things, about myself and stuff," he said, feeling a little embarrassed, "and I was a little scared to face you after knowing how you felt about her. I mean, for all I knew you would still be hot for her and you could win her over in a heartbeat compared to me-"

"Compared to you?"

"Yeah, compared to me, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Flippy, shut up," Splendid scolded, holding out a finger. Flippy went silent. "Is that what all this is about? You feel like your somehow not good enough?"

Flippy opened his mouth to protest, but the brief pause between his answer and the question was all Splendid needed.

"Seriously?"

Flippy didn't say anything, because honestly, he had no idea what to say.

"Flippy…" Splendid was laughing now, looking utterly exasperated. "You know, I could blame you for lying and actually having some sort of resentment towards me for liking her, but I don't think you're capable of that."

He smiled at Flippy, and Flippy smiled back.

"You're an idiot."

"What? No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"How? Anyone would worry about something like that."

"Flippy, your so much better off than me in more ways then you can understand."

Flippy arched an eyebrow as Splendid began to slowly shake his head.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Splendid leaned back and relaxed his arms, "that you're a way better person than me."

"Well that's stupid."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it-"

"Flippy, just shut the fuck up already," Splendid groaned, running a hand through his hair, "You have no idea how honest you are. You're a great friend and one of the bravest people I know. I'm the kind of guy who dates a girl because they're hot and I might possibly get laid. You're the kind of guy who goes and joins the army straight out of college and has way too much respect for a girl he doesn't know how to even talk to one."

Flippy had no idea what to say once again.

"Don't ever think you don't have a fighting chance against me. For one, I wasn't even trying to compete against you. Secondly, even if I was, there would be no landslide win. You're not as harmless as you think."

Flippy in no way thought he was harmless.

"You're my best friend. Do you really think I would do something as dick-ish as trying to steal away your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"That's not the point."

Flippy smiled before saying, "No, I guess not."

"Your damn right I wouldn't." Splendid retorted, waving a hand at him.

There was a brief pause between them before Flippy said, "I'm sorry."

"That's my line."

And that was where it ended. Splendid never was one for being in touch with his emotions. Like a guy, his brain was wired for two emotional fuctions: everything-is-fine and something-is-wrong-and-I-need-to-fix-it-somehow. They didn't need to talk about their friendship in depth or about how things made them feel. It was good enough that they knew there was nothing dangerous on the horizon for them to face. Throw in an apology here and there and everything would be just fine. Flippy was Splendid's best friend and Splendid was Flippy's best friend. Easy as that. And now Flippy understood it would stay that way even with the introduction of a girl.


	7. Chapter 7: New Shoes

Flippy didn't want to be in this situation at all. He didn't like it one single bit. He wished with every fiber of his being to be somewhere, anywhere else.

Flippy stood in front of the window of Abercrombie just staring, not moving a single muscle. He eyed all the clothes and all the mannequins and people like they were strange objects from another dimension, and the shoppers inside avoided walking past that window at all costs.

Flippy's date was tomorrow morning, and Splendid had asked him what he was going to wear. His honest, and sadly true, answer was what he was wearing then; blue jeans and his green army jacket. Splendid had slapped the side of his head and scolded him on being so horribly wrong that he was going to drag Flippy to the mall to get him an outfit himself. Much to Flippy's displeasure, he hadn't been kidding.

"Ready to go now," Splendid appeared beside him. He had gone to go throw away his soda cup across the street and returned to find Flippy exactly as he'd left him: looking stiff as a board and scared as hell.

"Nngh," Flippy grunted in response.

"Good," Splendid said, taking him by the shoulder and entering the store with him.

Upon entering, Flippy's senses were attacked by an array of things. Several girls rushed by talking and giggling and smelling so strongly of perfume he felt his face almost sink in on itself. Clothes and jewelry racks were all over, so many colors that it was hard to see straight. He trailed after Splendid, who was practically dragging him along now, and went face first into a mannequin wearing a provocative swim suit top and jean shorts. It knocked over to the side and he grabbed for it wildly, spinning on his heels and backing into a clothes rack. The hangers banged against each other and he pushed the mannequin off, falling through the clothes and crashing to the floor. When he looked up he saw a rather unimpressed Splendid standing over him, holding the mannequin in one arm.

"…Wow," was all he said before turning to replace the mannequin to its former spot and apologize to a concerned store clerk.

Flippy stood up, instantly hitting his head on the metal bar. He decided it was best to just stop all movement and sat back down on the floor, unwinding his arms from all the clothes and hangers. Flippy didn't go shopping for a lot of reasons; too many people, the prices are too high, there's always disgusting styles on display. But the number one reason was his uncanny ability to be an absolute klutz in shopping malls. He didn't do it consciously, it just seemed to happen. Even before he joined the army, Splendid would only go get clothes with Flippy when it was absolutely necessary and all his clothes were either full of holes or falling apart. After the time Flippy had set the dressing room sprinklers off and broken several glass display cases, Splendid was done with the whole shopping and being in public idea.

He stood over him now, extending a hand and hoisting his friend up.

"Please, and I mean PLEASE, try not to embarrass me too bad, okay," he hissed.

"Working on it," Flippy hissed back, dusting his shirt off.

The rest of the day consisted of two more stores and about $65 worth of new stuff. Flippy was so incredibly uninterested with clothes and fashion and whatever else was 'all the rage' that he was unsure what half the things were. But thankfully, Splendid had talent with style, and looking like a smug douche bag while effortlessly picking out the best stuff was just part of the package. Splendid was the most fashionable straight male Flippy had ever met. Cuddles had called him metrosexual once, but refused to explain what it meant when Flippy asked.

After two hours and only minor property damage, they sat in the food court with two bags and a tray of Chinese food.

"Do you really think that I'm going to able to pull all this off," Flippy asked quizzically, watching Splendid stab at the fried rice and orange chicken.

"It's not rocket science," his friend muttered back, licking his chopsticks.

Flippy wasn't a millionaire or anything, but he had a significant amount of money lying around from years of relative isolation. He was well off paying for the new outfit and had no trouble with mundane things like tickets and taxes. The idea of money and material possessions in general just didn't interest Flippy, so he never used them. When Splendid had seen Flippy open his wallet to pay for gas, his mouth had dropped and his eyes went wide. He shot Flippy a look of what looked like betrayal and then stalked off to the car. Now he sat in his living room, the bags untouched in the middle of the floor and the house completely still. Splendid had left about 30 minutes ago after giving Flippy a firm clap on the back and congratulating him on his expenditure into society, receiving a scowling but sincere thank you. All that was left of the day was a couple hours. Then it would be Tuesday, and Flippy would go out on his first 'date' since leaving for the army. And then everything would be great and awesome. All he had to do was get past the awkwardness of how he felt in the clothes. Slowly, he reached over and pulled out the faded jeans, the white V-neck shirt, and the plaid button up shirt. Then the black converse that he had to admit fit kind of nice.

It sounded stupid out loud, but Flippy didn't feel like he belonged in things like these. He knew he was a pretty nice looking guy and could pull of nice things like clothes and cool cars and girlfriends and such. But deep down, a little knot in his stomach told him he wasn't good enough. He wasn't supposed to be and never would be a part of a normal, functioning society. Why dress and act like they would? Why dress a wolf in sheep's clothing? When he was changing in the dressing room, taking off his shirt to reveal several deep, jagged scars that ran along his sides and back, Splendid hadn't said anything. He had seen them already and was so used to them it was like they didn't exist. But they did, and Flippy couldn't fool himself into believing they didn't when he saw the look on other peoples faces. A sales associate, a young girl around 18 with dark black hair and makeup that made her eyes look metallic, had walked over to hand Splendid a couple pairs of hangers when she turned and saw him. Flippy was walking out to showcase to Splendid the down right obnoxious shirt he had thrown his way, finishing fishing his arms through the sleeves, when she gasped and covered her mouth before apologizing and hurrying away. Flippy watched her go silently, stretching the fabric over his scar ridden abdomen and turning to look at Splendid who seemed oblivious.

"That one looks horrible," he'd said, touching his chin, "Here try this one.

Flippy scowled when he pulled the leather bracelet out of the smaller bag. He had put it on in the store with extreme difficulty, Splendid insisting that "Cool guys wear jewelry." He sat the bag down and ran a hand through his hair. He needed to be thinking of other things. He needed to be worried about Flaky instead of his Dolce and Gabana cologne. He flopped back down and stared daggers at the ceiling. To whoever it concerned, Flippy prayed for luck.

The next morning, the sun had decided to shine for about 20 minutes before retreating behind the clouds like a scared child. It cast a shadow on the town, one that threatened rain and wind and storms. Everyone was tensed for the thunder and lightening they expected to come at any minute. But it didn't come as Flippy got up from his bed and got ready, sliding into the new clothes after a hot shower and going out to his car. Splendid had sent him a text that morning that said, "Showtime", to which he replied, "I'm going to break a leg."

He left his house with a good 20 minutes to go pick up Flaky. He drove slow, trying to get his thoughts together and not let doubt cloud his vision. Of course, that worked for all of 5 minutes before he was running over every scenario in his head about what was going to go wrong and what was likely to happen WHEN things went wrong. He didn't even realize he was at Flaky's house until he was pulling into the driveway, his heart beating in his ears.

"Showtime," he whispered to himself, unbuckling his seat belt.


	8. Chapter 8: For Someone Like Me

"Hey," Flaky smiled as she opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. She had a lanyard around her neck brimming with about a dozen different keys that jingled around her chest as she closed the door.

Flippy was intrigued, but forced himself to look elsewhere, settling on her face. She had her hair pulled back in a clip that could barely contain the red tangles but accentuated the curve of her neck and showed off the glittery, dangling earrings. Small strands fell around her face, curling at the tips and brushing against her lips as she smiled up at him. Her smile was like the physical representation of early morning excitement; mint toothpaste, freshly scrubbed skin covered in the smell of flowery soap, peach face wash, a slight flush on cheeks that made her face light up Her brown eyes, now outlined in mascara, were once again velvet pools that made Flippy's train of thought come to a screeching halt. As she turned to turn one of the keys in the lock, Flippy unconsciously studied her. She was wearing a light yellow sweater that bunched up around her arms and went past her hips. He felt like he's seen it when he went shopping with Splendid. It hung over a grey skirt that cast a shadow over her impossibly pale legs, something else he got the strange feeling he'd seen but chose to not speak up about. She had a pair of old white tennis shoes on and ankle socks that peeked out over the sides. She's absolutely adorable, Flippy realizes with a lurch of his chest.

"What's wrong?" Flaky's voice quivers when she turns to see him facing away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, uh, nothing, I'm just stretching," he lied lamely, turning and flexing his arms until they gave a satisfying pop. He made a face and she laughed; a warm sounds that reverberated in his chest until he himself was holding back a chuckle.

"Ready to go?" He asked, the tension in his stomach slowly unraveling. She bit her lip and nodded at him from under her eyelashes, an impossibly cute gesture that made Flippy want to touch her face. He resisted with a clearing of his throat and gestured, "Ladies first."

He was worried the car ride from her house to the coffee place was going to be awkward. He was uncomfortably aware of the threat of silence and the feeling of insecurity that followed. He was prepared to glib his way through it with moronic conversational topics like the weather and the red sox. But as soon as he saw her slide into the passenger seat of his car and tug the seatbelt over her body, he felt the deepest sense of comfort he'd ever thought imaginable. Here he was, in his car with the single most fascinating person he'd ever met sitting beside him, one who for some reason was just as equally interested in him as he was in her. It was liberating and beautiful and frightening all at the same time. And when she turned and gave him an expectant smile, he felt all his worries evaporate into smoke. He started the car with a mild roar and began to back out of her driveway.

"Thank you," was the first thing she said.

"For what?" he inquired.

"For doing something like this even when it's so early and probably not the cheapest thing to do since the coffee place here is kind of pricey and I mean I'm the one who called you and-"

She was interrupted by the feeling of Flippy's right hand gently brushing hair away from her eyes. The heat from her face was almost simmering as he kept his fingers against her cheek for the longest second he'd ever felt in his life before he pulled it back, fingers sending a tingling feeling all the way up his arm. The brief silence that followed felt thickly tangible and he wondered briefly if he had crossed a line before she gingerly said, "And a serious thank you for _that._"

They both burst out laughing.

They arrived exactly on the dot, still lost in conversation that had grown exceedingly ridiculous. She moved to unclick her seat belt and Flippy took the opportunity to hurry over to her side, opening the door her. She was still talking about how she didn't agree with his opinion of steel rimmed dog collars effecting the price of gasoline when she turned and saw him, her sentence immediately cutting off. Her mouth hung open until she quickly cleared her throat, sliding out and straightening her skirt. Her hand brushed his arm when he pushed the door closed and they both stifled a giggle common in primary school children. They walked side by side to the double doors, Flippy opening the one on the right as she jokingly murmured, "What a gentleman." And he rolled his eyes. The little bell that hung above the door jingled as Flippy followed behind her. No one looked their direction as they entered the building full of people and the smell of coffee beans. They maneuvered around a display case of mugs and slid into the back of the line leading up to the double layered counter. Flaky hung close to him, closer than usual as her fingers clutched to his shirt sleeve, and he got the hint that she was just as bad in crowds as he was. With her by her side though, he no longer felt the threat. All the felt was the strange lead of the situation and the dominance over anything bad that would dare to step in their way. With a breath of spontaneity, he slid her fingers away from the sleeve and replaced the space with his own, intertwining their fingers lightly. He cast her a glance that silently asked if this way okay, and she cast him a glance that silently assured she didn't mind this at all and in fact was very grateful for it. Her shoulders relaxed, her hand warm pressed against his. If his palms started sweating he was pretty sure he'd curse the day he was ever born. If he was ever nervous about anyone seeing, which he most definitely was NOT, there was no chance with all the people that crowded all the tables and couches like a swarm of insects. It was an unspoken agreement between them that they were going to sit outside.

When it was their turn in line, Flippy gave her hand a gentle tug, directing her attention forward. She did an embarrassed skip forward, giving his a nervous smile.

"Can I help you," the barista behind the register asked happily. She was abnormally tall and had an obvious New Yorker accent.

"Yes, can we get a…" Flippy trailed off, looking down at Flaky as a signal to finish his sentence.

"Um, a grande white mocha cappuccino with two shots please," she hastily recited, leaving Flippy dumbfounded as the barista clicked some buttons. He knew about half of what those "coffee language" words were.

"Okay, and for you sir?"

"A, uh, medium sized iced latte thing," he said awkwardly. "The one without all the whipped cream and…stuff." Flaky snorted beside him, hiding a giggle. He lightly jabbed her in the side, making her burst out laughing. The barista smiled at them with a look that said 'so how long have you two love birds been together' before nodding and finishing typing their order in.

Flippy paid in cash, keeping his wallet tucked close to his chest so as not to alarm Flaky, even though her attention was back to scanning the room curiously. They moved and stood by the opposite wall, waiting patiently until their drinks were ready. Flaky stayed close, her body language crying out for a shield from the people practically running past, and Flippy was more than happy to oblige.

"Did I look like a total ass when I ordered that," he asked whispered, and she choked back a laugh again.

"No. It was funny though."

"I think it was pretty pathetic."

"You don't speak barista do you?"

"Apparently not!"

"I think she thought you were charming."

"Oh yeah? Well that's…comforting? I'd rather be charming than an ass."

She was still covering her mouth to contain a snort when one of the workers called out their order. Flippy told her he'd be right back as he turned to go retrieve them. The man who handed it to him glanced over at Flaky and blinked at him, making his stomach twist into another knot. He wasn't sure if he wanted to shrug at him or slam his head against the bar. He skillfully moved through the crowd and back over to her side.

"It's hot," he stated like a genius, handing her one of the paper containers that slid over the cup.

"And yours is cold."

He had a rebuttal for that but was cut off when a man about 5 or 6 inches taller than him, dressed in full biker attire, slammed into his shoulder. He had a firm grip on his drink and was only jostled back a few steps, completely fine with just offering an unneeded apology and continuing on his way when he turned and felt his heart sink. While only the man's shoulder had hit Flippy, he was actually quite wide, having the expanse of his body completely crash into Flaky. Her coffee was on the ground, a large puddle forming around her feet as she stared down at it in shock, not seeming to recognize the brown stain that trailed down her chest to her stomach. Her hands were dripping, the tips of her fingers beginning to turn bright red from the scalding liquid. Flippy was one second away from reaching out to her before the man stepped between them, cutting him off. He heard his deep baritone voice cut through the air through all the other voices.

"Watch where your going, would ya?"

"I-I'm so sorry a-about that, I uh…" Flaky's voice sputtered.

"You could've gotten it on me, ya know," he spat, almost as angry sounding as if it really had spilt on him. "And then what would you have done?"

"I…I uh, I didn't know-"

"Just 'cause ya got a pretty face doesn't mean ya can do whatever you want-"

He was unable to continue as a stern hand gripped his shoulder. He whirled around to see Flippy, furrowing his brow and huffing out an unimpressed sigh.

"And who the fuck are you," the man laughed, his wind-worn, tanned face twisted up in his scraggly beard.

"Excuse me sir," he said coolly, knowing full well what this situation would have played out like if Flaky wasn't with him, "But it was just an accident. Now if you'll just apologize, we can both go on our way-"

"Me?' He asked incredulously, "It wasn't me who wasn't watching where they were going! You should keep a closer eye on your bitch here-"

"Sir," Flippy's hand tightened on his shoulder, "This is your last chance. Give the lady an apology and we can put this all behind us."

With a smile he leaned down until he was inches away from Flippy's face. He looked over at Flaky who had bent over and retrieved her cup, eyes wide and flashing between him and the man. Without a word, the man swung his hand back, knocking the cup from Flaky's hands and sending it clattering across the room.

Okay then.

Before anyone in the room could breathe, Flippy tore his hand away from the man's shoulder, grabbing his arms and spinning him to pin them behind his back. He struggled and thrashed in his grasp, but with no result. He tried to kick his leg back as he cursed loudly, but Flippy was two steps ahead, twisting his arms just enough to keep him still.

"What the fuck are you-" he was obviously confused that Flippy wasn't inflicting any pain, just simply restraining him.

"She's still waiting for that apology."

"Wha-" he was cut off as Flippy turned his body to face Flaky. With another twist of his arms, he knew he had gotten the point across to the other man there was no way of getting out of this. He had won.

"Now how about that apology?" He asked calmly. Flaky's eyes were a mixture of fear and amazement.

"I'm sorry," his voice sizzled with humility.

He was about to let go when he hissed, "Sorry that your girlfriend is a complete bimbo."

"Okay, that's quite enough," Flippy sighed, using one hand to hold the man's arms in place and the other to lift him up by his collar. People in the room were slowly beginning to grow aware of the situation as a couple of them gasped in surprise. The man was easily another 100 pounds heavier than Flippy, and he had just lifted him up like a sack of flour.

He walked over to the door, pushing it open with his back and calling out, "I'm sorry about this folks," and hoisting him out with him. He looked like a small puppy being lifted up in it's mothers mouth as he limply dangled in his grip, too surprised to fight back. Flaky made his way to the only motorcycle in the parking lot, dropping him over onto the seat and effortlessly kick starting the engine.

"That's enough for today, yeah?' Flippy said, stepping back as the man stared up at him in astonishment. He nodded, and Flippy turned to walk back into the coffee shop. He though he heard the man huff out the word "faggot", but he just smiled since he really had no argument for that when he was in these clothes.

As soon as he walked through the door, the room erupted in cheers and clapping. Flippy, too stunned to speak, stood frozen, absolutely confused.

"Thank you!" The barista who took their order called out from behind the counter, "You have no idea how much that guy has cost us in property damage!" The other workers started nodding and agreeing.

"He terrorizes this place every couple days and we couldn't get rid of him! We were about ready to press charges! Thank you so much for that! I mean, no one has ever stood up to him like that!"

"That showed him," a woman in a chair against the wall said, her friends nodding around her.

"That asshole almost ran over my dog with that stupid motorcycle last week!"

"He picks so many fights!"

"I live by him! I can't sleep with his constant late night parties and all the beer bottles-"

"Does he even have a license? I mean-"

All the voices were in unison now, sharing stories and chiming in to voice their complaints. Flippy felt an arm touch his shoulder and looked down to see a middle aged woman with a wrinkled face and bright red lip stick smiling up at him.

"Thank you so much young man. I own the flower shop across town and all my customers have been too scared to shop there anymore what his constant patrolling and his buddies getting in fights…But anyway, I owe you my business!" She smiled at him like he had just given her a winning lottery ticket, patting the side of his face with her fake nails.

The majority of the room was.

He stuttered, "Um, no, I just-"but was overshadowed by another round of voices congratulating him and offering him coupons. He scanned the room hurriedly and saw Flaky by the counter, the barista handing her another cup of coffee and chiming, "On the house!"

She turned and saw Flippy, her mouth in the middle of a 'thank you', but stopping now as she made her way over to him. She was in front of him in half a second, setting her coffee down on top of the trash can and wrapping her arms around his neck. She hugged him close, her face tight against his collar bone. The room erupted in "awe's" and "how cute" and "kiss her! Kiss her!" but they faded away as he felt her breath skim his neck, sending shivers down his spine and making all his thoughts screech to a stop in his skull.

"Flaky-"

"You idiot."

He blinked at her response. Well, he certainly hadn't expected that.

"You shouldn't have done that," she muttered, twisting her fingers in his shirt and pulling closer, "You didn't have to do that. He could have hurt you or worse and its just, don't ever do that again, you hear me? Just don't."

Her voice was muffled in his neck as he hugged her back, hands skimming across her shoulder blades in an attempt to be a gesture of comfort.

"Don't do something like that for some one like me."

"I'm fine," he assured with a smile, pushing her back ever so slightly so she could see his face. The stain on her shirt had left a mark on his shirt. Not that he was complaining: he was more than ready to announce it un-wearable.

"Why did you do that," she demanded, seriously distressed.

"Because I didn't like the way he was talking to you."

She stopped short. "You didn't deserve it. I don't think I'm too fond of anyone who's going to address you like that. And, it seems to me, he isn't a big hit with everyone in this room."

A couple "yes's" and "damn straights" arose. Flaky just looked up at him, a very small smile finally taking shape on her trembling lips.

"I would do something like that for someone like you without a second thought," he said, meaning every word.

"Flippy, I lo-"

She was cut off as the sound of thunder rumbled loudly in the distance. The sky opened up in the next second, sending an army of rain crashing down. Everyone who had expected it wasn't perturbed in the slightest as another roll split the air. Flippy was going to ask her to continue, desperate to hear her, but the barista was suddenly at their side, clapping Flippy on the back loudly.

"Free drinks on the house for everybody!" She whooped, and the room was another buzz of cheers. Flaky smiled up at him, and he took her hand.

"Let's get out of here while we still can," he whispered into her ear.

She nodded, and they darted through the doors.


	9. Chapter 9: Silence

The rain started out soft, but as Flippy and Flaky ran out the coffee house door it had turned into a heavy, violent downpour. It was warm and humid and smelled like freshly cut grass mixed with stuffy libraries. As soon as they reached the parking lot they began to race back to the car, Flippy holding Flaky's hand, palms squeezed together and sliding in the rain. She was close behind, their footsteps completely synced, making a steady beat amongst all the splashing and rain crashing on the pavement. And in that moment, Flippy felt weightless. His hand tangled in her fingers, the pulse in his ears, the water washing away the dark reality his mind refused to forget. It was all beautiful, as if the world had slowed its turning and time was infinitely slower. Any doubts he felt were washed away with the rain. The worry he had about today seemed so far away, and the feeling of complete acceptance was shredding his defensive walls.

He only stopped when he felt Flaky's fingers slip away and she stopped short, the sound of her laughing crystal clear though the storm that raged above. Thunder split the air and he turned, taking in the sight of her. Her hair was falling out of its clip and sticking to her face and neck, her sweater saturated and skirt plastered to her thighs. Her eyes were squeezed shut, mouth wide open, gasping for air as she clutched at her stomach, body shaken with giggles. And it was beautiful.

"Why are you laughing?"

The laughing got stronger and he started chuckling himself. This was really happening, wasn't it?

"No seriously, what's so funny?" He didn't care if she answered, he just wanted to keep the sound of her laughter in his ears.

After a few seconds she answered, "I don't know."

Even though her laughter was lighthearted and lofty, her voice became soft and bittersweet. Flippy felt his heart stop as he watched her open her eyes and noticed the wetness welling on the edges. He wondered if he was just confusing what looked like tears with the rain, but still stayed where he stood. Her eyebrows were knitted together behind her hair, her lower lip quivering through a broken smile.

"…I don't know," she breathed, meeting his eyes. "I don't know."

Flippy realized that she wasn't just talking about the laughter. Something danced behind her eyes, something much louder and twisted than the clouds clashing in the sky.

"What?" He asked, trying to keep his chuckle, trying desperately to change the way her eyes had become dark. He was just imagining things right? Come on, laugh again. He took her hand, but she flinched at his touch. He immediately withdrew.

She looked at the ground, water dripping off every part of her body. Shame and silence covered her. He realized now that the laughter wasn't that of happiness. It was the kind of laugh that you only had when you were deranged, when you had just been through something so serious and gruesome your brain didn't know any other way to react.

Shit.

Slowly Flippy slid off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

"Let's go home," he said, and he guided her to the car.

The car pulled into the driveway, windshield wipers scratching the glass and high beams blaring. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to go open her door, but she was already out of her seat, slamming the door and hurrying inside. Flippy shut the car off and rushed in after her.

The door hit his hand as he crossed the threshold, meaning it had been swung back so hard it had bounced off the wall. Worry flooded his veins like poison as he half jogged into the living room.

"Flaky?" He called, stopping in the entry way when he saw her. She was sitting on the couch, hands over her face and shoulders hunched as if she were dodging punches being thrown on her. The clip was out of her hair, lying on the floor beside her feet with red tangles and white flakes stuck in the teeth.

"Flaky," he said calmly, unable to stop the slight waver in his voice, "Flaky what's…what's wrong?" He was smiling, a little too unwilling to accept this was rapidly going down hill.

There was no reply; only a deafening silence. If only I could see her eyes, he thought, then I could see the window that plays what she's thinking. We were laughing, just minutes ago. What changed?

He took a step forward, freezing when her head suddenly shot up, eyes focused solely on him. Scrutinizing, fierce, more intimidating than the whole Iraqi army. His smile was gone now.

"Fla-"

"What is this?" she asked, clutching the cushions with shaky knuckles. "Tell me what this is!"

She might as well have been speaking French.

"I don't…Tell you what this is? I don't know what you mean-"

"Do you know what this is doing?" She spat, venomous intent laced in-between every word.

"What this is…What? I don't…," Flippy felt his head spinning. Not because he couldn't handle conflict; he had been trained to do that. It wasn't because he was scared or because he was incapable. He had no idea what to say to quench the flames burning the air around them, he had no idea how to make the attack stop. He had no idea how to understand, how to comprehend the words she was saying. He waited patiently, hoping for her to give him a much needed explanation.

It took a few minutes before she finally spoke, "You have no answer, do you?"

Silence.

A deep breath.

"I don't know what to expect. It's only been a week and yet I've never felt something this strong. It's all I feel, it's all I see. It's taken over my life and I don't know how to handle it. You have invaded everything, and the worst part is that deep down, I don't really mind."

She paused, and he was nowhere closer to understanding.

"You have become the constant, Flippy. And I didn't even want this. I didn't think I needed this. I can't just let this consume me, consume everything. The last time I let something like this happen, I was…Do you know how hard it is to function in what you should find as complete happiness when all you want to do is make it all end? To just stop it, to stop your life? To wish so bad you were dead that you don't know if you'll ever escape what you're trapped in?"

The tension was becoming absolutely unbearable. Flippy felt each word like a bullet in his skull, paralyzed and heart refusing to beat properly.

"I don't even think you know what this, whatever this thing is, truly can become if I don't stop it now. Flippy, today, if you had asked me to commit myself to you, I would have done it. If you had asked me to jump off a cliff with you, I would have taken your hand and asked if we could count down from 10 before jumping. I don't know anything about you, and I feel like giving you everything. Why? Why is it like this? Do you know how insane that is?"

Another silent heartbeat of complete torture.

"If this ends up…bad. If this falls or ends… If you leave me or just go away, I don't know if this time around I'll be able to pull myself back together. I've felt dead before, and I was lucky to ever get my life back. I've been to the end and back. Do you know what that feels like?"

She drew a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair.

"Do you know what its like to live everyday like it's scripted? Like you're not really in the same reality as everyone else?

He didn't even have to think.

"Yes."

Flaky stopped, mouth open around the words she was about to say. She stared at him, and Flippy felt his whole body resisting the memories that explained why he knew, why he felt like this was his own life playing through her. His hands were clenched so tightly he felt the skin on his palm indent to the bone. He knew exactly what it felt like.

"I'm scared too," he found himself saying. "I'm terrified. There's so much I have to lose. Do you know why we feel this way towards each other?"

She was silent.

"Because we both have nothing else to live for. Because this is the one chance we have to be happy. Because our desperation brought us together. But it's also keeping us apart. You're scared, I know. I know the feeling. I know it all. And I don't expect you to just accept it without a fight. This is the final solution, and I know if this doesn't work out or I somehow fuck this up, then it really will be all over for me. This is all I have now. Everything else is just barely keeping me alive. My life has been the most dreadful existence ever since I turned 18."

Her eyes were overflowing with tears, and Flippy felt his face and eyes begin to sting. He hadn't even realized how close to the edge this whole thing had brought him.

"Do you want to hear the truth," he asked slowly, "Do you doubt if I'm taking this seriously? Do you worry I'm not seeing how serious this is?"

The way they were both breaking at the same time was almost earth shattering.

"Because this is the truth. I love you. I love you so much it scares me. I love you and I didn't even know what love was before this. It's the only thing I can know for sure is real. This is the only thing. The only thing."

Her eyes widened when the words "I love you" exited his mouth. She looked so surprised it hurt to see. It hurt to see how she was so unsure this whole time. And he hated himself for letting it fester inside her.

He had no clue what she had been through to bring her where she was today, and he could only imagine what the past was filled with that haunted her. When he saw her tears, he knew how much he and her were alike in this. Life had been a complete lie until this.

"…You'll understand if I have a hard time believing you," she half smiled, hiding her face again. She looked like his declaration had just been a really bad joke. He wanted to yell at her to look at him, to see the way he meant every word. But something kept him where he was.

"I might as well tell you I'm not the most stable person you're ever going to meet."

"Me neither."

"No, you don't understand. You're much better off than me."

"I'm really not."

"Yes! Yes, you are! You have been so strong and have been leading me along. I've been able to fully rely on you. You're so confident, like you know exactly what you're doing!"

"I'm only that way when I'm with you."

She smiled, but it was so sad it might as well have been a frown.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere."

He felt the first flame of anger spark in his belly. He saw the way she was playing this and how she was reacting, and frankly it was beginning to piss him off. Because she was refusing to let a sliver of his words in. He was just a broken record.

"Maybe it worked with some other girl before this but-"

And that was the breaking point.  
>"NO. YOU HAVE BEEN THE ONLY ONE. YOU HAVE BEEN THE ONLY PERSON THAT I'VE FELT THIS WAY ABOUT IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?" The sound of his shout rang off the walls.<p>

"I DO BELIEVE YOU! BUT I DON'T WANT TO! I WANT YOU TO BE LYING!"

"WHY?" He shouted, unable to see any of her logic in this, if there even was any.

"BECAUSE THEN I WOULDN'T HAVE TO RISK TAKING YOUR WORD FOR IT! BECAUSE THEN I COULD JUST STOP THIS AND SAVE MYSELF THE HURT!"

"WHY ARE YOU SO HELL BENT ON THINKING I'M GOING TO HURT YOU?"

"BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WILL!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT. HOW COULD YOU?"

"BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH!"  
>"Really?" He felt himself bubbling with anger. "REALLY?"<p>

"Yes!"

"I know you're upset and confused right now, Flaky. But don't SIT THERE and tell me I don't have any idea how to relate to the way you feel."

She was about to open her mouth to restart the screaming contest, but he stopped her short.

"Do you know how many times I faced death? For 8 months, Flaky, I was on the front lines of the war. I have been shot at more times than you can count. I've been so covered in blood I didn't think I would ever be able to wash it away. I have been seconds from bleeding out from all the holes in my body. I've seen countless people die right in front of my eyes, most of them my friends and comrades. I have scars that cover almost half the skin on my body. I am one giant canvas for the battlefield. I've looked down the barrel of the gun and hoped that bullet would blow my brains out. I've had dozens of doctors breathing down my throat about how I need help with coping. How PTSD will spiral out of control if I don't start taking their advice. How I have a chance to make my future 'brighter' if only I'd just TAKE it. I've been living a lie for the past 2 years. I've tried taking my life several times. I've pushed everything away until there was nothing left. I forgot what things were before I hated myself. Before I started having chronic flashbacks and nightmares and not one god damn night of proper sleep."

She was still now as he managed to bring his volume back down.

"And you are the only light I've seen through this all. How could I let something as amazing as you go? How could I possibly hurt you when you're everything? When you have every part of me?

"…You didn't tell me you were in the war," she murmured.

"I didn't think it mattered. I would tell you eventually, but it feels far away when I'm with you. You make it all go away."

She shook her head slowly, wiping her hand against her eye.

"Do you know how…ILLOGICAL this is?"

"Life is illogical."

He took a cautious step forward and she clutched her head, pulling her knees in and opening her mouth in a scream.

"NO," she cried, "I'M NOT ANY OF THOSE THINGS YOU SAY. YOU'RE NOT IN LOVE WITH ME, YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH A LIE. I CAN'T BRING YOU HAPPINESS AND I NEVER WILL. I JUST TOLD YOU THAT YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN. I FEEL SO HORRIBLE AND STUPID. I wish I could TELL YOU EVERYTHING. I wish I could say my story as easy as you. But it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't justify anything. It would only make you hate me even more."

"I don't hate you."

"You will. You will, I know. You'll be the death of me, Flaky."

Novocain couldn't compare to the numbness he felt in that exact moment. She was undone, broken, and had shut him out. She had reverted back into the fear, like he had done so many times before. She was in that part of the mind that was unreachable from the outside. His words were useless now.

"Ok," he said, voice like a sour ending. "Ok."

She fell on her side and sank between the pillows. And he knew whatever door he had opened had been opened way too fast. The rollercoaster they had both been riding had reached its end.

"You're right," he said, "Maybe I really don't know you. Maybe this feeling is just a lie."

Every single sentence was a knife in his back, a needle in his blood, a fire on his flesh. He had never told such a blatant lie in his life. He would die before he started doubting he really loved the girl in front of him. That he didn't know how she felt.

"If you can't do this…then ok. Ok. I won't make you."

She didn't answer at first until he had turned on his heels to leave.

"Flippy."

Her voice was soft. Broken. The screaming had ended and she was barely a whisper.

"Yes?" He didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry."

He swallowed, "Me too."

And with that, he made his escape, opening and closing the door behind himself. He stood on the porch for a moment, taking in the night and the aftermath of the rain. Crickets chirped and the wind slightly whistled. Feel something, he asked himself, please. Give me a sign this isn't an end.

Silence.


	10. Chapter 10: 15 Days

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" The front door swung open, banging into the wall as Cuddles burst through. It swung back and she kicked it with her foot, skidding around the corner and stumbling down the hallway at rapid speed. She heading straight to the living room, stopping in the entryway, both hands braced on the wall and eyes wild. Her chest was heaving as she gazed at the scene in front of her.

Splendid was sitting in the middle of the floor beside Flippy, who was facing Cuddle's with his back. Splendid was adjacent, looking up to meet her eyes when she burst in, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

"Splendid?" She looked between the two of them. "Flippy?" He sat motionless, his head hanging and the nape of his neck showing over his collar. "What's going on?"

Splendid cast Flippy a cautious glance before sitting up, rising to his feet and walking over to Cuddles. He put his hand on her back and led her into the hallway.

"Splendid?" She said, voice filled with worry, "Splendid, what's going on? You called me and said he wasn't answering his phone and that you found him here sitting in the dark and you were really freaked out and didn't know what to do-"

"Yes, yes I did," he said, sounding tired and extremely exasperated.

"You said he had a date with Flaky today right? Did something happen? What's going on?"

"I don't know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "he won't say. He hasn't said a word since I found him. He's just sitting there and-"

He paused, the words seeming to jumble themselves and get lost in his throat.

"Look, right now I'm just trying to get him to talk. I don't want to leave him alone…"

"What, do you think he'll do something?"

"No. I mean, maybe. Yes. I don't know. It wouldn't be like him, but then again he's not really himself right now. It just wouldn't be right. I need to be here for him. I've never seen him like this."

He trailed off, hand tensed on her shoulder. They stood in silence for a moment, both considering what to do next and trying to calm themselves down, to think rationally.

"…What do you want me to do?" Cuddles whispered, realizing Flippy could probably hear them.

"I need you to back me up," he said, a slight glint in his eye.

Cuddles swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you know more about Flaky then we both do, right? Well the only time he's even slightly responded is when I've mentioned her. So-"

"So," she raised an eyebrow, "you basically want to do a 'good-cop-bad-cop' thing?"

He paused, looking to the side and thinking of another way to say it, but then nodded when he came up short. Cuddles bit her lip then gave him a smile.

"I'm in."

* * *

><p>"And then what happened?" Splendid asked firmly, sitting in front of Flippy with his legs crossed. He didn't say anything at first, just staring straight ahead with vacant eyes. So far they had managed to get bits and pieces out of him, starting with how the date started and ending with how it had started to turn sour. Anytime he trailed off or wouldn't answer, Splendid would tug his right ear; the signal for Cuddles to mention things she knew about Flaky. She would begin with something like, "She always was like that in college" or "She's said things like that before" and then attack with, "She's obviously damaged" or "What a horrible thing for her to do!" He would look up at her, then in an act of defense he would try and justify Flaky's actions with more of the story. Then Splendid would praise him and soothe him to go on. It was a slow and grueling process, but it was working. And that's all they could hope for. Splendid was just happy to have stopped him before he sank too deeply inside himself and into that part that was impossible to reach. He wasn't prepared to help bring him out of another serious depression again. If he could intervene in the process, he could maybe get a handle on the situation before it got too serious. And this time, there was something about Flippy that was different. When he looked in his eyes, he didn't see the usual nonchalant hurting that hid the real brokenness inside. He saw something that scared him; he saw the real thing. The real, raw, unmasked side of Flippy that he'd only shown a handful of times. Whatever had happened, Flaky had somehow managed to completely undo his charade and leave him defenseless and bare, something Splendid had only dared to attempt.<p>

Something in this girl possessed the ability to pick apart what the entire U.S. army had spent months building.

Now he sat in his living room, slowly coaxing him out like a small, frightened puppy. When you've lived in an emotionless state of mind for so long, when you finally start to feel then it must be that much more intense. Splendid could see he was scared. He saw it the moment he had walked into his house and found him curled in on himself with the lights off and the only sound his slow, almost mechanical breathing. He had called to ask about the date, and when he didn't get an answer on the third time around he assumed the worst. Rightfully so, he saw now. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't found him. With the old Flippy, it would have been another chink on his steely armor and a shrug of 'don't worry, I'm fine'. Now that he was stripped down and exposed like an open wound, who knew what he would let in.

"And then I said ok and left," Flippy finished anti-climactically. He shrugged, like he wasn't sure whether to say sorry or ask for reassurance.

"Okay," Splendid nodded, taking it all in slowly, one frame at a time. "And she didn't say why she was so unwilling to be in a relationship?"

"No," Flippy shook his head, "other than she wasn't the person I thought she was and that I didn't really love her. But I don't think that's all. She…it sounded like something…happened. Something that made her so scared. Something in her past she's not telling me."

He focused his attention back to the floor, squirming a little before settling again. Splendid looked over at Cuddles, who looked thoughtful with her bottom lip held between her teeth. He nodded, patting Flippy on the back before standing up and motioning for her to follow him into the kitchen.

"I'm going to make some coffee, okay?" He said. There was no reply, only a slight nod of Flippy's head that he could have missed if he'd blinked.

Once in the kitchen he started the coffee maker, measuring out the coffee beans and cups of water in silence, Cuddles just as silent behind him.

"What do you think," he finally asked quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter as the coffee gurgled and hissed behind him.

"…It's been a long time since I've really talked to her about the stuff that happened in college," she said each word like it was syrup, dripping slowly off her tongue while she tried to think. "Do you remember when you both came to my house that night when I first told you whose phone it was and I said I went out to lunch with her earlier that day? That we were really close friends?"

He nodded, switching his weight onto his left side.

"Well that was kind of a lie. Not the lunch part, I mean. We really did go out that day, but only because I saw her on my way home from work and just kind of...asked. I mean, we used to be such good friends in college and then she dropped out. And I haven't talked to her since she came back to town a year ago. So we're not exactly as close anymore as I made it sound."

She gave him an apologetic look before looking away quickly.

"Well it's not like I've been completely honest either."

Her head snapped back up and she met his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I actually knew Flaky in college too. Then she disappeared and a couple months later I met you after I changed majors."

"You knew her?" She asked, surprised but not angry. "You didn't tell me. I didn't know. I mean, she never said anything about you. Then again she never really talked about a lot of stuff with me."

"Well I came in late, you know. I only knew her for about a month and a half before she was gone. I barely showed up to classes anyway. I lived in an apartment complex off campus and was busy partying and getting drunk off my ass for the most part of the first semester."

A smile graced her face as she said, "Yeah, I know. I met you at a frat party, remember? You were the one trying to drink all the beer out of the beer pong cups."

He smiled, feeling nostalgia wash over him. His Flaky phase was short lived and half fueled by alcohol and pheromones. Only once he'd met Cuddles did he find the motive to change himself.

"And you spilled your drink on me," he continued the story.

"And I apologized and you said I could make it up to you."

"And you said even if you agreed to whatever I was implying, there was no way I could handle you."

"And then you said you accepted that challenge."

They were giggling now as the story was relived for the millionth time over. Splendid found himself standing closer to her, their fingers brushing just slightly as they swayed with laughter.

"We're not supposed to be laughing," she said, smiling up at him with bright eyes, "we're supposed to be helping Flippy."

"And how do we come about doing that?"

"I have a couple of ideas."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. But I'll need some time."

"I'm listening." And he was, desperately. He had no idea where to begin; only knew he wanted to help his friend as quickly as possible.

She paused a bit before seeming to decide her plan was developed enough to share.

"You know how my parents want us to go visit them in Florida for a few weeks? Well why don't we invite Flippy."

"Why would we do that," Splendid asked, pulling the coffee pot away to pour into a mug. "Aren't we going like, two weeks from now?"

"15 days actually. And just trust me."

"I don't know. I'm kind of finding this unsettling. How is this supposed to help him with Flaky…?"

"I know what I'm doing." She said, taking the mug from his hands when he offered it to her. "Trust me, please."

"Do you really think he's going to want to come? Because I'm pretty sure his answer will be a big fat no." Splendid made a face.

"Not if I can help it."

"What?"

She cocked her head to the side, a gleam playing in her eyes that made Splendid completely engrossed. With a snigger, she leaned up on her toes, placing a chaste kiss to his lips and making a trail with her nose across his cheek to whisper into his ear.

"Do you trust me?"

Splendid's breath hitched in his throat. He knew it was game over for him. He nodded.

"Good." She said, drawing back slightly. "Now listen closely."

* * *

><p>"Florida?" Flippy said incredulously. Cuddles had left about an hour before and now he and Splendid sat in the dim light coming from the lamp. It was getting late, the cicadas beginning their usual song and the first stars beginning to light the dark blue sky. Splendid had managed to get Flippy onto the couch and get a coffee mug in his hand (black, no sugar, just the way he liked it) but there wasn't much of a change in his stature.<p>

"Yep," he nodded, swinging his feet back and forth off the side of the recliner.

"Why? I mean, why would you…Who said…Just, what? Why do you want me to come to Florida with you guys? It's Cuddle's family."

"So?"

"So," Flippy groaned, "I haven't even met them."

"What does that matter?"

He sat back with a sigh, balancing the mug in one hand on his knee.

"I think I'll pass."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"If you want to try and get Flaky back, I think you should go."

His head shot up, coffee splashing out of the sides of the mug and soaking into his jeans. His eyes were a mixture of every emotion imaginable, but it was mostly filled with desperation. Desperation, curiosity, and anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded.

Splendid took a long sip of his coffee before setting it on the floor slowly. He made sure Flippy was looking at him before he explained.

"We leave for Florida in 15 days. Okay?"

"Right…"

"And we'll be gone for almost a whole month, okay?"

"Right."

"Then that's the perfect initiative."

"Initiative for what, exactly?"

He raised an eyebrow, but continued. "You think that you really love Flaky. And you're pretty sure she loves you back, right? Well this is her chance to prove it and come to realize her real feelings."

A spark seemed to light inside Flippy's eyes.

"You mean to tell me that I'll give her 15 days to want to come back to me?"

"In essence yes. And each of those 15 days, you are going to prove yourself to her. You are going to try and make your feelings as clear as possible, and then let her make the final decision."

"Why do I have to go to Florida? I can count out 15 days on my own."

"Because I know you won't hold yourself accountable. You'll either chicken out or give her more time. You need a definite time period. It will help you decide and give the right amount of closure for whatever happens. You can complain all you want but this is the best opportunity you're going to get."

He sat, stunned, looking at Splendid like he had just tried to explain rocket science. He realized with a sigh that he was going to have to level with him in simplest terms.

"Look man," he began, sitting correctly in his seat and resting his shoulders on his knees. "You both are the kind of people who can't work things out by themselves. Especially when it's something you are both completely inexperienced with. She needs a push, and you need some kind of plan to follow. You and I both know you would drive yourself crazy trying to fix it yourself. You'd come up with a million different scenarios and then end up choosing the one you THINK will be the best one. Not the one you FEEL will be the best. You THINK. You don't allow yourself to FEEL. You have a gut and a conscious for a reason, you know."

Usually, Flippy would have protested. He would have waved the idea off with his hand and then refused to acknowledge it as a possibility. He would have scolded Splendid for being so stupid and then lied and said he was fine and didn't need help.

Now, he sat in front of him as a man with no means. For the first time, Splendid legitimately didn't know what he would say next.

After an interminable amount of time, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was no longer Flippy, the hardened war veteran. He was no longer cold, emotionless Flippy who was devoid of a subconscious and avoided human contact like it was the plague. This was Flippy, the human being. Flippy, the man who was fragile on the inside and knew it. Who was scared of that fact and tried to change it inevitably. He was Flippy, the little boy who grew up without a dad and an overprotective mother who had cried when he'd told her he'd been drafted. He was the Flippy that told Splendid at the air port that day that he was scared, and if he didn't come back then he wanted him to know he was his best friend.

"…Ok," he said finally, taking Splendid so off guard he spit up the coffee in his mouth, "You're right."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but," he wiped his mouth and gaped at him, "did you just say I'm RIGHT?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah but I just figured I'm hearing things. Wow."

"Splendid."

"Can you say that again? Hold on, let me get my video camera…"

"Splendid, don't be a dick."

They were laughing now, ripping on each other in the way only guys could. It was an unspoken language between the two of them.

Flippy would exhale after a long, hearty laugh. _Thank you._

Splendid would gasp for air trying to get the laugh out of his lungs. _Any time._

Tomorrow, the 15 day countdown would start.


	11. Chapter 11: Stars

Day 1-

Flaky opened her eyes as the afternoon sun leaked in through her bedroom window. The blinds cast horizontal rows across the carpet, the far away sounds of birds chirping breaking the silence in the small room. Slowly, she rolled over so she was facing the wall, curling up and bringing an arm across her face. It was almost noon, she knew somehow without looking at a clock. Her stomach was slightly rumbling and her head was in desperate need of some aspirin, but she didn't feel like getting up anytime soon. If ever after what had happened the night before.

She winced when she remembered everything, trying desperately to push the images away. It made her stomach lurch and her heart clench tightly in her chest when she recalled Flippy's face; the way he was so confused and how desperate he had looked to understand what she was saying, to know how to fix it and make her feel okay again. But that wasn't going to happen, because Flaky wasn't going to let it. Knowing there was no way she was going to be able to fall asleep again; she sat up and rolled her shoulders, easing her tensed muscles. She had been a mess all night during her sleep, tossing and turning and stretching her body to try and relinquish its unease. It felt like every bone in her body was gripping her muscles a little too tightly, like she had barbed wire instead of veins. There was a buzz under her skin that constantly kept her moving, jittering, shaking and unable to stay still for too long. And in that morning, it felt ten times more intensified. With shaky legs she stumbled into the kitchen, opening the fridge with shaky hands and pulling out the milk with shaky fingers. She set down a shaky glass and took a shaky sip, swallowing two aspirin with a shaky gulp. It was unbearable.

She sat down at the table, slowly easing back into the wooden chair and pulling her knees to her chest. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but she didn't know it was going to be this hard. It had only just been less than 24 hours and she already felt like giving up. She had Flippy's phone number. Her phone was just inches away, plugged into its charger on the counter. It would be so easy. She could dial his number and ask him all the questions she wondered about and confess all the secrets that she kept trapped inside. She could tell him the truth and explain just why she couldn't be with him. But she had told him the things she'd said last night with the intention of NOT doing that. She had meant to push him away to the point of no return. She wouldn't contact him at all and keep her distance. She would run away from it all, just like she had done years before. That way, she wouldn't have to go through the inevitable. The end she knew was going to come and the end that would rip her apart for the second and final time.

She took the time waiting for her head to stop hurting to plan out the following weeks. She would get a job in town and focus on staying busy. She would try and stay away from her phone and anything and anyone somehow connected to Flippy. She would try and do odd things around the house and use her free time to tidy up and reorganize. She would try using the coupons they had in the magazines she was subscribed to and she would rent movies that she liked and heard good things about. She would start cooking and eating healthy so she'd have more energy. She would exercise to burn off the energy and hopefully some of the tension in her bones.

When her head started to feel better, she got up and went about her morning. She brushed her hair and teeth, taming it the best she could into a pony tail. She changed into shorts and a T-shirt several sizes bigger than her, made her bed neatly and turned on the TV in the living room. She would be okay. As long as she stayed busy and drowned all thoughts out with noise and sleep, she would soon get over it and be able to move on. She had done it once before, she could do it again.

It was around three when she heard the doorbell ring. She had been sitting on the couch trying to watch another re-run of Hell's Kitchen, unsuccessfully in the end when her mind kept wandering, and it took her a minute before she snapped out of her thoughts enough to recognize the sound. She was in no way acceptable for people to see; no makeup or bra and emotions she didn't know if she had a steady handle over. So she waited, holding her breath until she heard the sound of a car door opening and closing and tires screeching down the road. When she was sure there was no one at her door and that everything was completely silent, she got up and wobbled into the entryway. She unlocked the door, pulling it open only enough to peek her head around. The sun hit her eyes, temporarily blinding her as she looked around, not noticing the small brown box by her feet until she took a step forward and tripped over it. With squinted eyes she picked it up and inspected it in her hands, shaking it slightly next to her ear. There was the sound of styrophome shifting around and a heavy thunk when whatever was inside hit the side. There was no return address on the box and no note, just tape on the edges and "Flaky" written on the top in blue sharpie. With a quick glance around one last time, she went back inside, shutting the door behind her and heading straight for the living room. She sat on the floor beside the couch on her knees, placing the box on the coffee table and using her nails to peal back the tape.

Three minutes later she had the contents strewn across the room and an empty box on the floor, an answering machine sitting in front of her. It was brand new and covered in buttons, a Sony, dark silver colored, cord wrapped up with a twist tie. Taped on top was a piece of paper that had, "Play me" written in the same blue sharpie and same uniform hand writing. Flaky sat back on her heels and looked at the machine, mind scrambling for answers.

She hadn't ordered an answering machine, or at least she thought she hadn't. She didn't even have a house phone. She hadn't told anyone she needed one, and nobody she knew would have sent her one. Who would send her one? Maybe they delivered it to the wrong house? No, because her name was written on the box. Whose writing was it? She had never seen it before. Why did it tell her to play it? What was on it? Was this some kind of joke? Maybe this was a prank, though she didn't know anyone who would want to pull something on her. With extreme hesitance, she took it and plugged it into the plug by the TV. The red light beside the clock in the right hand corner began blinking immediately, a beeping sound playing on the speaker. She flinched when she heard a woman's voice mechanically recite, "You have 14 new messages. Press play to hear your messages."

When she didn't move for a minute it repeated again, red light pausing between each word. Scanning the buttons she found the one that looked the most predominant and the most important, hypothesizing it was the play button as she pressed her finger down. She exhaled when the voice began, "Message one. Tuesday, March 27th, 4 p.m." That was just yesterday. What came next made her stumble backwards and cover her mouth over a gasp.

"Flaky," Flippy's voice said, "This is the first of 14 messages. Please listen to each message once a day for the next 13 days. I ask that you please don't skip ahead to the next message after the day's assigned one."

There was a pause and he took a deep breath, the sound of his exhale static in the speakers.

"Do you remember that first night when I came to your house and gave you your phone back? How after I gave it back we started talking about a lot of stuff for a while?"

Flaky found herself nodding to no one but herself and the sound of Flippy's voice, still too stunned to move.

"We talked for two hours, twenty six minutes and fourteen seconds, not including the time I arrived and the time I got up to leave. In total, we spent exactly two hours and fifty six minutes together that night. It wasn't near enough time for me to explain everything I was feeling. So I'm going to use the next 13 days to explain it to you.

Give me a chance to explain, that's all I ask."

There was a loud beep, and then the voice recited, "End of message one. To delete, press pound. To save, press-"

Flaky didn't think twice as she pulled the plug loose, silencing the machine. She got up and sat on the couch, turning on the TV again and ignoring the mess on the floor.

This was definitely not going to be easy. And as much as she wanted to be convinced, she refused to listen to anymore messages. She would throw away the box and the machine tomorrow. For now though, she was going to sit on the couch and drown out her thoughts until she didn't feel anything anymore.

She fell asleep that night on the couch, her mind numb but still replaying Flippy's words.

Day 2-

She tried. She really did try. She told herself she wouldn't do it and spent a good part of the morning avoiding it. But in the end, she ended up back on the floor, plugging in the answering machine and bracing herself for whatever happened next. She tried so hard, but the curiosity burned inside her like a wildfire until she was consumed and couldn't focus on anything else. What could just one more message hurt? She would listen to it and then get rid of them. Yes, that was the plan. It would work, she was sure.

She skipped past the first message and waited patiently.

"Message two. Wednesday, March 28th, 6:49 a.m."

A brief pause that made her hold her breath in anticipation.

"Flaky," Flippy's voice began in the same tone as the first message, "Thank you for continuing on to my next message. Today, I need you to go to the store downtown and ask for Sniffles. Pause this message and then continue it when you get back."

She scanned the buttons until she found the pause button. The store, huh? Why the store? What was he planning? There was no way she was going to drive down to the store on some wild goose chase. It was ridiculous. No way, absolutely not.

She lasted about 20 minutes before she begrudgingly got dressed and into her car. She would just go see what it was. After all, if someone was waiting for her it would be cruel to just not show up. She would explain to him what was going on and then kindly end the nonsense. Yes, this was going to work out.

She was hoping to stall when she got to the parking lot, but to her displeasure there were 3 open spots right by the entrance. She parked the car and trudged to the sliding doors. It was a pretty day and there was a nice breeze, but it might as well have been raining so the cloud over her head wouldn't seem so out of place.

Once inside a greeter came walking up to her with a big smile. He had a tag on his shirt that said, "Disco Bear".

"Hello and welcome to Easy-Mart!" he exclaimed, shaking her hand. She gave him the best smile she could and cleared her throat.

"Um, hello, yes I came here to uh, speak to someone named Sniffles."

She watched as Disco Bear's eyes suddenly lit up and his smile grew wider. He didn't let go of her hand as he spun to stand at her side, putting his other hand on her back and steering her towards the check out stations.

"Yes, right this way miss Flaky!"

"Um, I'm sorry but, how do you know my name?" she asked, but he didn't seem to hear her.

He took a right past the produce section and into the customer service part of the store, releasing her and motioning towards a bench against the wall.

"Wait here please," he said, disappearing through a door on the far left.

Well this certainly wasn't going the way she thought it would. She took a deep breathe, silencing the anxiousness inside her and putting on her best face. Moments later the door swung back open and a man with light hair and thick rimmed glasses stepped out. He had a rather large nose and a shiny gold nametag that read, "Manager". In his right hand was a plastic bag.

"Miss Flaky," he smiled broadly, extending a hand. She took it gingerly and cleared her throat.

"Um, I assume that you're Sniffles?"

"You assume correctly," he beamed, then paused, pursing his lips. "You must be so confused."

She nodded, and his smile was sympathetic.

"I'm guessing you're somehow in on this?"

"Not at all. I'm just supposed to give you this bag and let you go on your way."

"But," she narrowed her eyes, "you can't give me anymore details, can you?"

"You are correct, miss Flaky."

He held out the bag, nodding for her to take it. Flaky stood still for a minute, just looking it over, trying to see what was inside. It looked filmy, meaning there was more than one bag inside. When she looked up at Sniffles he was grinning. With a frown she took the bag.

"Thank you," she said, not meaning it at all.

"No, thank you."

She turned on her heels and headed for the exit.

As soon as she was through her front door, Flaky was back on the floor, pressing the play button and working to untie the bag. Double knotted, of course.

"Alright, I assume you're working on getting the bag open now. I asked for it to be triple bagged so I would have time to explain."

Of course as soon as she untied the first bag, sure enough the second bag was there.

"Do you remember on that first night we talked when you told me all the things you haven't done but really wanted to do before you die? You said you were in the process of writing a bucket list and it was getting so long you thought you might not be able to finish it. One of those things was to lie under the stars with someone special. You said you got the idea after watching a movie once. You wanted to learn the constellations and see a comet. You said you were still scared of the dark, so you would need someone you trusted to come with you."

The second knot was done as he continued.

"I know I'm not here with you, but if I can't take you to see the stars…"

She ripped the third bag open.

"…then I'll bring them to you."

Inside was a package of glow in the dark ceiling stars and a card stock ticket. With blurring eyes she held the ticket and read the typing. It was a ticket for the planetarium.

"Happy hunting, Flaky."

The message cut off, and the automated voice began. "End of message two. To delete-"

With shaky arms she slammed her hand down on the pause button. She ripped the ticket in half and put the stars in the trash.

No, this wasn't going the way she thought at all. If he wanted her to suffer, he was doing a good job. It was as if he was imprinted in her head, refusing to leave, forcing her to remember his face and the way he smiled. It was a slideshow of everything she loved about Flippy running nonstop in her mind. He had forced his way into her life and she had let him in. Now he wouldn't leave. How could she forget him when everything inside made her remember? Why had she made the horrible decision to listen to the messages he left? She was digging herself a hole that she feared she could never get out of.

Tomorrow, she was going to begin her escape.


	12. Chapter 12: Swimming

Day 3-

Flaky woke up with a groan. It was around noon, but she had barely slept at all.

She had laid in bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling, then tossing and turning until her sheets were a wad on the floor and the pillows flat from being fluffed over and over. She knew why she couldn't sleep, and as much as she hated it she knew exactly how to fix the situation. With the excuse of a desperate need for sleep she trudged into the living room and retrieved the stars. It had taken all night, but around 2 a.m. she had stuck all the stars onto her ceiling. Once the lights were out and the room illuminated in an ambient glow, she collapsed onto the mattress, closing her eyes and quickly falling asleep.

After she had made some coffee that morning and slipped on her glasses she sat in her living room and turned on the next message. She did it without thinking, almost reflexively, but after the hours of sleep deprivation she wasn't exactly thinking straight.

"Message three. Wednesday, Mar-" while the voice recited its lines she took steady sips of her coffee, letting the scalding liquid flow down her throat and into her stomach, settling until her skin was warm along with her insides. Coffee was her guilty pleasure, and as bad as caffeine was for her system she still enjoyed the taste of it too much to stop. But she might as well have not been drinking anything, because this particular message made her spew the coffee in her mouth all over herself.

"Hello and thank you again Flaky. Today I know you have tickets to go somewhere, but afterwards I need you to drive out a little ways. The address is 220 Convert Street, just off the highway. It's a white, 3 story house and there should be a sign on the door pointing to the backyard. Please follow the sign and bring a towel." With that and only that, the third message ended.

Convert Street? That wasn't just a little ways out. At the least, with no traffic on a good day, it was at least a 45 minute drive. Once you passed the bridge over onto the highway there was nothing but the houses where the wealthy and first class citizens lived. Flaky had never been inside the estate neighborhood, not imagining what reason she would ever have to. A sign pointing to the backyard, too? If that wasn't a red flag she didn't know what was. She stopped pondering when she suddenly remembered the tickets she had thrown away. They still sat in two pieces on top of the trash, as if waiting for her to come and retrieve. Upon closer inspection she saw that they were scheduled for 3 o'clock that day, and after a quick glance at the clock she saw she had an hour and a half to get ready.

Well, why the hell not? It was free tickets, and she had only been to the planetarium once when she was a little girl with her father. If anything she could feel a little bit of nostalgia.

The old blue station wagon Flaky owned since she was 17 pulled into the parking spots at 2:53. She was in sweat pants and a T-shirt, her hair down for once and brushing her face in the slight breeze. It was a sunny day in March, the sun shining out from behind the sparse white clouds. It was the kind of day where people alike would be venturing outside and taking part in the early summer activities. But to Flaky's surprise, there were no other cars in the parking lot except a black Honda civic parked in a handicap spot. She strode up to the double doors, noticing the sign that had the hours; 4-7 p.m. on week days. Shouldn't this place be closed since it was a Thursday?

Once inside she was surrounded by refreshing air conditioned air. The walls were tall and covered in posters showcasing upcoming shows and events, a long corridor leading to two tall black doors labeled "Planetarium" in silver letters. The floors were shining, squeaky linoleum under her battered converse, a row of lights hidden behind a glass covered roof lighting only a path to the doors. She checked to see if anyone was around before maneuvering through the velvet line indicators and gingerly pulling open the door. There was a man in the middle of the three rows of seats at the control panel: middle height, black jeans and black turtleneck under a head of straight purple hair. He had his back turned to her as his fingers moved away on the buttons.

She cleared her throat. "Um, hello…"

The man turned to face her and she saw his eyes were hidden under black circular glasses.

"Are you Flaky?" he asked with a voice that was low and quiet.

"Uh, yes I am. You were expecting me, right? I mean, there's no one here and the sign said you were closed-"

"No, you are supposed to be here. And you're right on time. Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the row beside him, waiting patiently. He waited until Flaky had sunk down in the leather chair one seat away before turning back to the panel.

Silence engulfed the room and Flaky fidgeted nervously.

"You can't tell me about how Flippy is involved in this, can you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes ma'am. I'm going to turn off the lights now so please stay seated."

She closed her mouth and nestled into the seat, watching the rainbow walls dim into complete darkness. She looked up at the domed ceiling stretched above like the actual sky, octagonal pieces connected to make it's shape. The man didn't say another word as the pieces blackened and then lit up with stars, a woman's voice narrating soothingly through the speakers surrounded the room. Crossing her legs, Flaky quickly felt a buzz of anxiety under her skin.

"Thousands of centuries ago…"

She found herself smiling, as if she was 6 years old once again and her father was at her side once more. For once, she forgot about the outside world and Flippy.

Two hours later, Flaky and the man were back in the lobby. The presentation had been about the creation of super novas and the formation of the star systems. The man hadn't said a word when the show ended and the dome lit up again; simply walking down the aisle and holding the door open for her. Now, when she could see him in proper light, she realized the glasses on his face were for the blind.

"Um, if you don't mind," she began, clasping her hands, "could you tell me how Flippy managed to rent out a whole planetarium for me?"

A smile crossed his face, but it was more of a somber upturn of lips.

"Flippy is an old friend of mine. I served beside him in the war."

Flaky blinked. "The war?"

"Yes. I fought alongside him. He was a great soldier and comrade…" he paused for a moment, biting his lip lightly, "…and he saved my life."

Flaky was too stunned to speak, so she just slowly nodded her head.

"You don't usually walk away with only your eyes missing after being held hostage for 3 weeks," he said, a sickeningly sweet look on his features. "I owe him a great deal. He offered to give me his own eyes, even. He blamed himself for my capture. We were a couple miles out from the base doing some recon and…we accidentally triggered a land mine. He threw me out of the way, and all I remembered after that was being dragged away while he was unconscious on the ground. He rescued me, carried me back to base on his shoulders. Did the whole thing with only three soldiers on backup. I don't know how me managed it with 20 plus guards."

His voice trailed off as he focused his blind eyes back to Flaky, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. She found her eyes overflowing with a few tears.

"There's a lot you don't know about him," he said gently, "and not a lot of people do. But for once I think he's found one person to share his past with."

Flaky hugged him before heading back to her car.

* * *

><p>Around 6 o'clock, Flaky reached the house. The driveway circled in the front, curved around an expanse of flowers and a bird fountain. The house was, in fact, white and 3 stories, two windows on each level and a terrace extending over the side on the right. The porch was lined with columns, the double doors a rich mahogany with stained glass panels. To the left a trail of cobblestone wrapped around the side, leading to an ajar iron gate. Gripping the old beach towel, she walked to the gate, creaking loudly as it opened. The backyard was wide, the porch leading to the grass in two sets of marble steps lined with hydrangeas. Under a tree against an iron fence hidden with ivy was an oval pool connected to a circular, marble hot tub.<p>

Flaky had never seen such a haven in her life.

She jumped when she heard footsteps approaching,

"Hello there!" A woman rounded the corner of some shrubbery, wearing nothing but a deep blue swimsuit. She was thin and tanned, purple hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were a startling blue and lit up when she saw her. She took Flaky's hand and shook it enthusiastically.

"Yes, uh, hello. I think I was supposed to come here with a towel…" she nodded as she extended her arm.

The woman laughed warmly, "Yes you were! Good! There's a swim suit for you to change into on the table over on the porch."

Flaky was suddenly frozen and she took a few steps backwards.

"A swimsuit, uh, y-you mean like for…swimming? Um, n-no, no, I can't…I can't swim, you see, and-"

"Well what do you think you're here for," the woman put her hands on her hips, grinning with a quirked brow. "I'm a licensed swim instructor after all."

Flaky's mind scrabbled for answers until she abruptly remembered. That night, when she and Flippy had talked for hours they had shared embarrassing secrets. He had told her he was deathly afraid of lizards and she had said she didn't know how to swim. When he'd been genuinely surprised she had shyly explained her parents had never taught her and she was too scared to try it herself even though she really wanted to. She had confessed to being embarrassed when she declined offers from people when she was invited to water parks or swim parties. It was another line on her bucket list.

Oh God was that what Flippy was after?

"Hurry up now, it's starting to get dark!" And with that she turned and padded over to the swimming pool, hips sashaying. "My name is Mime, by the way," she called back.

Flaky stood for a moment, watching the shimmering of the water as the sun slowly began to make its way to the horizon. She did actually find a one piece swimsuit lying on top of a glass table, two floaties and a boogie board propped up in the metal chairs. The door to an outdoor sauna running along the fence was open, and she took that as the place to change, a little too embarrassed to ask. It slid on smoothly, a layer of ruffles on the bottom that made it feel a little more modest. She took the swim items and her towel with her as she briskly made her way to the pool. Mime was already wading in the water when she got there, arms dancing around her and hair let down from its hair tie.

"Come on in," she waved a hand motioning her forward. When Flaky didn't move, she pursed her lips.

Flaky couldn't help it. She was a young adult who was, even though she shouldn't be, petrified of water. She remembered her cousins pushing her into the water when she turned 11 that one summer at the lake, the oldest having to dive in after her when she didn't resurface. The feeling of that helplessness paralyzed her, even though the pool was much shallower than a lake. The fact that it was probably a couple inches taller than her was the deciding factor.

"Flaky," Mime murmured, "I know you must be scared. But Flippy wouldn't have asked me to do this if he wasn't 100 percent sure you were ready. He said he didn't want you to be afraid of anything anymore, saying he wanted to surprise you with a trip to the beach sometime-"her sentence abruptly cut off. "Oh shit, I don't think I was supposed to tell you that part."

Flaky sat down slowly, letting her legs slip into the water, anger and unease fighting in her stomach.

"You know…I didn't ask for any of this. I mean, I just found out a couple hours ago he was in the war. And now he's apparently signed me up for swimming lessons. And to think I have another 12 days of this. I feel like I don't even know him anymore."

Not that she knew him very much to begin with, but she certainly wasn't expecting all these surprises.

Mime smiled sympathetically. "I think that's why he's using these 15 days to explain things to you. He didn't get a chance to before this, right? I don't know all the details, but I know things haven't gone too smoothly. Anyway, I say you should give him a chance. He's gone this far. Ever since he came back home, he's been shut off from the world. This is the first time I've seen him attempt any form of human interaction. He even contacted my brother, who he hasn't talked to in years. I think he blames himself for my brother's blindness."

Flaky put two and two together; she was the sister of the man who ran the planetarium show for her. Mime waded over, placing a hand on her knee gently.

"If you don't think you can do it, you don't have to. He made that very clear. He explained the answering machine and all that. He said he felt really bad about dragging you blindly all over the place, no pun intended. But if you ask me, I think it's sweet." She smiled, patting her leg before pushing back. Flaky had to admit, no one had ever gone this far for her.

Even though her plan was to shut him out, the way he was displaying himself so bluntly in front of her was somewhat endearing. He really did seem to care about not hiding anything from her, and she realized the more this went on, the more his own fears and insecurities would show through. He wanted to make her happy, knowing his pain was being shown to share with her. He trusted her, and apparently no one else. And he would accept it if she chose not to continue, which almost felt like reverse psychology. She saw two roads in front of her, one where she would continue to shut him out and go back to normal. The other was a life with no secrets and the uncertainty of what Flippy was promising her. There was a huge swell of hesitance inside her, meaning she was nowhere near taking that road. But baby steps would eventually lead her to the path she was supposed to take. Hopefully it would be the right one.

With a nod she slid into the water.

Day 4-

The next morning Flaky's hair still smelled of chlorine. Mime had spent several hours teaching her basics, essentially holding her up as she tried to stay afloat. She felt childish with the floaties on, but found she definitely appreciated their presence when her head first went under the water. Mime had been very patient with her, assuring her of her safety and slowly easing her into the strokes and kicks. By the time she left, her arms were exhausted and she was now able to doggy paddle.

After making a warm cup of tea, she sat down on the floor again, rethinking her decision briefly. Last night had shown her several revelations, ultimately it being that with each day she would be closer to the outcome she needed most. Her mind was still leaning strongly towards not continuing her romantic relationship with Flippy. But maybe a very distant friendship could be managed?

She sipped her tea then set it down, learning her lesson from yesterday, before pressing play.  
>"Message 4. March-"she clicked the fast forward button, having become more familiar with the buttons. The automated voice was just a nuisance now.<p>

"Flaky, hello and thank you." Flippy's voice started in the same way he always did. "You have two more lessons with Mime. She will be waiting the next two days at 4 o'clock at the same location. But first, I need you to go to the downtown mall. There will be an envelope in your mailbox with the details."

The message cut off, and she took a moment to finish off her mug before getting up to go check the mailbox. She decided not to think about how the envelope managed to get in there or what might possibly be in store for her. Because by now, she was just in it for the ride.

The envelope held a business card, this one labeled, "Grind house" with her name scribbled in the bottom right corner. Some details. She dressed casually yet classy since she would be in a public place. After sliding on jeans and a loose silk shirt, she got into her car.

When she reached the mall, she looked at the directory in the middle of the food court until she found the yellow cube she was looking for. Taking the escalator to the second level, she passed two clothing stores before turning the corner into a coffee shop. A cursive sign labeled "Grind House" hung above the entryway and as soon as she stepped inside the smell of coffee beans swallowed her. She breathed in a deep sigh, filling her lungs with the heavenly smell. It was a little crowded inside, the walls a deep cream color with soft chairs and wooden tables lining the walls. A bookcase was adjacent to the glass counter top, chalkboards with the menu hanging above the rows of coffee makers and blenders.

"Flaky?"

She turned her head to see a woman with blonde hair and a soft face approaching her from the employee's only door. She was thin, very pretty; a deep red apron clung to her figure. Her hands were worn but soft as she shook Flaky's hand.

"Hello dear. I'm the owner of this shop. Today, I was given the instructions to show you the many flavors of our fine establishment. Free of charge, of course. We recently got a shipment in from Hawaii, the beans are glorious, and I assure you. And from now on, you have three months of free coffee. Flippy is a friend of the families, and any friend of Flippy is a friend of mine."

Her smile was almost as warm as the atmosphere, and Flaky found herself submitting to the room filled with her only sweet, guilty pleasure. She faintly remembered asking Flippy that night if he wanted a cup of coffee and even though he hesitated, once he saw the look on her face he understood and said yes. He really was one of the most observant people she'd ever met.

"Nice to meet you."


	13. Chapter 13: Jumping

Day 5-

Flaky woke up with her arms sore and muscles aching. She had been a spastic mess in the pool last night and the usually crooked position she slept in didn't help at all. But it was all worth it, because now she knew how to swim. It had been two days but Mime was a great teacher and knew exactly what her body needed as if she knew Flaky inside and out. She explained she had been to medical school and spent the first couple years of her career as a physical therapist. When her brother, who Flaky now knew was named Mole, returned home he had needed constant supervision to adjust to his blindness so she used the skills she'd learned to care for him. Apparently he had adjusted extremely well and now he was able to run the planetarium in town, but Mime didn't trust him enough to let him live on his own. Mime would also listen to Flaky when she talked, and Flaky found it increasingly easy to talk to her. Ever since highschool she had left a part of her social life behind, and now Mime was the closest thing to an actual friend she had had in a long time. This was surprising, since they'd known each other for less than 24 hours.

She was going to have dinner with Mime tonight and planned to bake cupcakes as a thank you for helping her get over her fear of water. But that could wait for now, because it was once again time for the next message.

Her bones popped as she straightened up on the bed, stretching her arms over her head. She grabbed her robe and house shoes on her way to the living room, a yawn reverberating out of her. After skipping past the automated voice she settled on her usual spot on the floor, bringing her knees up to rest her chin on.

"Flaky, I've got to admit," Flippy's voice was warm and light hearted, "after swimming with Mime I'm surprised you weren't too angry to continue these messages. I sincerely apologize for pulling such a dirty trick."

Dirty trick indeed, she thought, fighting back a smile.

"You like heights right? At 3 o'clock someone will come to pick you up."

And then, the message ended.

Flaky absolutely loved heights, which surprised most people who knew her. She had plenty of phobias, but heights was not one of them. She'd always loved them, ever since she was a little girl. On trips to amusement parks she had been the first to go on the tallest roller coasters and biggest rides, always craving more exhilaration. When she had finally turned 18, she had gone sky diving with her uncle. She would never forget the feeling of free falling, hundreds of feet above the ground, wind rushing past her ears until all she could feel was the air around her. Pulling the parachute chord had been a huge disappointment since the fall itself seemed very brief. She'd landed gracefully in the landing field, immediately darting to her uncle to ask for another go. Heights were amazing, adrenaline pumping, euphoria inducing.

She could only hope the person picking her up was taking her somewhere like that.

At exactly 3 o'clock, when Flaky had just finished eating a lunch of chicken salad and grape juice, there was a honk outside. When she opened the door she saw a yellow jeep parked beside her mailbox, a familiar blonde head in the driver's seat.

"Hello again," the coffee shop owner smiled at her as she slid into the seat. It was another sunny day, the temperature in the low 90's with only a distant breeze. Flaky made sure to dress lightly to avoid overheating; a pair of basketball shorts and a white T-shirt with "Keep our earth clean" faded on the chest in green letters. She had worn tennis shoes instead of flip flops, just to be on the safe side.

"Hi," Flaky smiled back, still a little shy. The woman was wearing old blue jeans and a "Rocky Horror Picture Show" shirt that hung off her sinewy arms. She noticed a flower beret holding her hair back. In the sun she seemed startlingly pale and fragile.

"I feel horrible," she said, "I didn't introduce myself yesterday at my shop. My name is Petunia.

"Petunia," Flaky said, "Nice to formally meet you."

Petunia chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. The jeep sputtered and roared to life, jostling them in the seats. This was the kind of jeep meant for outdoor terrain.

"I guess you can't tell me where we're going."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Flaky was surprised at how her answer felt so natural. Somehow knowing these people were associated with Flippy calmed the worst of her wariness.

"Good. Buckle up; this baby can be a little bumpy. As she turned her head to check behind her, Flaky noticed a large blue streak of hair twisted up into the bun on her head, bright against the blonde. Maybe Petunia wasn't as fragile as she thought.

The roads the jeep was taking were unfamiliar to Flaky as they exited the town, heading right past the estates and over to north where the surroundings were mostly fields and dirt and rocks beside rolling hills. The air grew humid the farther out they got, turning onto a dirt road that sent dust flying around them. Flaky blinked and shielded her eyes, loose gravel pieces landing in her hair as she felt the jeep take a swift, sudden left. She didn't open her eyes until the tires stopped and the engine subsided. What she saw made her jaw drop.

They were pulled off to the side of a bridge that extended across a deep, jagged crevice. It was obvious that once, long ago, water had run through it. But now it was dried up and traveled down farther than Flaky could estimate with her eyes.

On the other side was a large crane with a small box on the very tip, a cord fastened on the inside and in a pile on the ground. She saw a pile of silver and black, guessing it was harnesses, and several straps.

"Took ya long enough!" She heard some one yell, looking up and watching a man emerge from behind the crane. He had the brightest orange hair Flaky had ever seen in her life and had on a bright yellow hard hat that had "Handy" written on the side in black marker. "I was starting to think ya wasn't comin'!"

"Oh hush," Petunia said, walking up to him as he approached them and crossed the bridge. She covered him in a hug that was so sweet it made Flaky's heart clench. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her temple before turning to face her.

"Miss Flaky I'm guessin'?" He had a toothpick bobbing in his mouth.

"Yes sir."

"Ah, skip the sir! Call me Handy."

Flaky extended a hand to him, but when Petunia moved to the side she saw that he had no arms. Instead his limbs ended at where his elbows should be, white bandages wrapped around the tips. Flaky retracted her hand so fast her wrist popped.

Handy erupted into a hearty laugh, the utility belt hanging off his khaki workers pants jostling the tools inside.

"Didn't see that comin' did ya?" He smirked, and Flaky wasn't sure how to react.

"Don't tease her," Petunia warned, nudging him with her arm. "Flaky, are you ready to strap up?"

"U-um, well I, yes- I mean, strap up for uh, what exactly?"

"This here is a jump site," Handy exclaimed proudly, positioning his half arms in what would be a gesture of hands on hips. "You ain't scared, are ya? Green man told me ya weren't."

Flaky guessed the 'Green man' was Flippy.

"Come on then," he swung his arm, motioning to the bridge. "I ain't got no arms and I ain't got all day!" He spit his toothpick on the ground, earning a scolding look from Petunia.

"Ready dear?" she asked calmly, taking her arm. "Handy may be obnoxious, but he's been operating this thing for more than a decade. You're in safe hands." With a grimace she added, "No pun intended."

Flaky nodded in agreement, allowing Petunia to steer her towards the bridge.

"How's that?" Handy asked, working on the straps.

"Um…still a little tight."

"Goddamn, how tight did you pull this, Petunia?"

"I didn't do anything."

Handy had no fingers, but he was surprisingly efficient, managing to get Flaky into the harness with no trouble at all. He pulled the straps buckled against her between his two limbs, maneuvering them skillfully and with frightening accuracy. The metal slid down the Velcro, and Flaky was comfortable under all the black clasps.

"This is just a precaution," Handy explained, "it'll extend on the rope connecting to the straps on your feet. Just in case ya slip out or anything, it'll catch ya."

He bent down, Petunia wrapping the strips of Velcro and metal around her ankles. She felt the bandages work against the skin on her calves, and with a pat from Petunia and a clink of metal she was all hooked up.

"Now over there on the rails there's a little platform you're gonna step up on. That's where you'll jump from. And that rope up there," he motioned towards the crane, "is the bungee cord that'll catch you. And- hell, I think it's pretty obvious how this thing works. Just make sure to keep your arms crossed across your chest and go for it."

Handy hooked the rope onto her ankles and nudged her forward.

Flaky hobbled over to the iron railing, climbing cautiously onto a granite platform that slightly extended over the abyss below. She glanced down and gulped, the bottom still hidden with shadows from the jutting rocks. The sun beat down on her above, the distant sound of a hawk calling from the sky. She felt a bead of sweat travel down her forehead.

"Ya nervous?" She heard Handy taunt behind her with a snigger.

"Quite the opposite actually," she turned her head slightly, grinning widely. Petunia and Handy both raised their eyebrows. "I'm so excited I think I'm going to explode."

Feeling the familiar flame of anticipation coil in her belly, she took a breath and fell forward.

The feeling really was indescribable. As soon as her feet slid off the platform she was falling forward, dropping straight down into the depths. She felt the air whoosh its way into her lungs and she gasped in excitement, eyes blinking away tears from the wind. Her hair stood up straight behind her, her clothes billowing wildly through the openings in the harness. Adrenaline pumped through her body like electricity, her head filling with the giddy dizziness she loved so much. She saw the shadows clearing as she fell closer to the bottom, and she closed her eyes just as the cord caught her, bending and sending her soaring back upwards. The arms crossed over her chest flew free as she let her arms sail her upwards.

"HEY!" Handy's voice was distant, as if calling from another dimension. "I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR ARMS CROSSED!"

She felt laughter bubble inside her and she called out a weak apology. As he shot upwards she caught a glance of Handy's annoyed face and Petunia's radiant smile.

She screamed happily as she paused for just the slightest second in mid air, the potential motion rising before dropping back down with a front flip. This time she made sure to not close her eyes, wanting to see the bottom for herself. But she wished she hadn't as a scream of horror exited her lips.

"FLAKY!" Petunia called down, "FLAKY, WHAT'S WRONG? WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

Flaky waited until she was shooting back up to yell, "THERE'S A SIGN AT THE BOTTOM THAT SAYS 'MARRY ME'."

Petunia gasped as Flaky fell back once more, the cord not bouncing and stretching as far now. But sure enough, there was a white tarp spread across the bottom with "Marry Me?" written in bold italic red writing. She felt all the color drain from her face as she realized that it was really happening.

She bounced three more times before the bungee cord straightened out, swinging her left and right. The shadows had darkened the bottom once again, but when she focused her eyes she could still make out the edges of the tarp.

_Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God_, she thought, _this can't be happening_. _Did Flippy just propose to me- no, oh God, there's no fucking way…No way, it was impossible._

She was too stunned to function as she heard the distant sound of the crane groan and pull her up.

_No, no, no. No way._

When she was within distance, Handy and Petunia reached out to catch her and pull her over the railing, quickly stripping her of the harness and ankle strap.

"Flaky-"

"No, no, no, I'm serious. There was seriously a tarp down there, a giant fucking tarp. It had marry me on it with this really big question mark, I swear. It was really there…"

"Flaky."

"Oh my God, this has never happened to me before, he can't even be serious. Did Flippy do this? Wait no, don't answer that."

She didn't realize she was clutching her head until she felt Petunias soft hands pry her hold apart.

"Flaky," Handy said, this time more sternly. He had another toothpick in his mouth as he sighed, hard hat hanging off his neck.

"Look, that wasn't for you. Last night I had this guy come down and we set it up for his girlfriend. They were both going to jump and he wanted to surprise her. They had all their friends come and it was just such a long night. I didn't have time to put it up and I forgot to tell you beforehand."

He threw the harness to the side, turning to see Flaky and Petunia both staring at him in complete and total exasperation.

"…I'm sorry?" he offered, and Petunia had to hold Flaky back.

That night, after she had finished her lesson with Mime and they'd sat down in her living room over cupcakes, wine, and Chinese take out she explained the events of the day.

"You're kidding!" Mime laughed, taking a sip from her wine glass.

"I wish I was."

"That's hilarious."

"It's really not."

"Just for the sake of continuity, what would you have done if that HAD been meant for you?"

The words came out gurgled as the water Flaky was drinking escaped her mouth. Mime was still laughing when she left the house.

Day 6-

Flaky's heart still felt two beats ahead of normal when she sat down for the 6th message the next morning. Petunia had called that night apologizing again, and Flaky had no trouble forgiving her. She owed Handy an apology after that blow she made to his jaw. But considering the circumstances, she figured they were pretty even. She started the message with a scowl.

"Flaky, I hope you enjoyed your fall."

Yeah, up until the tarp part.

"Do you remember telling me you've never seen a concert? Get a pencil ready to mark it off your list."

Flaky had to admit the amphitheatre was bigger than she thought it was. It was in the part of the park that was usually shut off to the public until certain shows and holidays, and today was the March Music Festival. It only happened once a year and tickets usually sold out within 48 hours. Flaky herself had never been, too hesitant to spend such a large investment on the tickets. But upon walking up, the gate was opened for her without a word and a program was put in her hands. It was outdoors, surrounded by trees that supported strings holding paper lanterns above the rows of seats. There were 24 in total, slanting down to the stage with the wooden terrace over the top. There were chairs lined up in a curved line, filled with people dressed all in black with instruments and music stands placed in front of them. A step with a large music stand was in front, blocked off by red ropes. Circular lights hung loosely amongst the rafters in the terrace, giving the darkened stage just enough light to see. A man escorted her to what was apparently her seat, the second row, fourth one down. She could see the jumbled notes printed on the music on the conductors stand and heard the quiet whisper of the people around her buzzing like bees. The variety of paper lanterns above made the faces of all the people all colors of the rainbow.

A couple people took their seats beside her, and when the sound of a conductor's wand hitting the stand sounded, silence washed over the crowd. The conductor was a middle aged man; gray hair elegantly gelled over and around his ears. He wore a black suit with long lapels and a velvet bow tie fastened at the collar of the cream shirt. His brow was creased above his upturned nose, his dark mustache bristling with his exhale. Flaky watched in awe and raised his arm, and then the sound of violins floated through the air. It was joined by the inclination of cellos and a bass played by a surprisingly small girl. Flaky had never experienced a live concert, knowing full well the orchestra had traveled all the way down from New York. Her heart swelled at the sound of flutes and an elegant harp.

The music was bittersweet, soft then loud at it's peak. It felt like a story book being read through the notes, the strings of the instruments painting a picture to illustrate the journey. It reminded Flaky of when she was young and her grandmother would play CD's of orchestras as she knitted from her rocking chair, letting Flaky play with all the trinkets and figurines she had laying around the house. When the piano began to play, it reminded her of her mother's second wedding when she was 17, 11 years after her father's departure. She remembered being so scared as she put on a brave face and willed herself to accept it, because her mom would be happy. A pianist had come to play the wedding march for them, and she had given Flaky a quick lesson on how to play little bow peep. She felt the chill of memories dance with the music in her ears and she hugged her arms around her stomach. For the first time, she really wished Flippy was at her side, and she really wasn't sure why. Where was this road taking her?

She opened the program and read the title of the first song.

_"Forget the past."_

She didn't hold back the tears that streamed down her face. The concert lasted for two and a half hours, Flaky sobbing quietly to herself until the very end.

When she got home, she set the program down on her nightstand, turning off all the lights and looking up at the stars on her ceiling. Only 8 more days now, and then she'd have to choose the road to take. The doubt nipped at her mind like a snake, the voice that kept her from trying anything holding her back. With the way these past 6 days had made her feel, maybe a friendship with Flippy would be too much. Because any mention of him sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach and happy ideas in her thoughts. They didn't want to get over Flippy. But she had 8 more days to try and convince them to. Sometimes it felt like with each day she was having to fight more and more with herself. Two sides that refused to let the other have its way. As tired as she was and as confused as she felt, the way the stars glowed on her ceiling were the farthest thing from menacing she could think of. Did he really have her best interest in thought? One look at the program and she knew the answer.


	14. Chapter 14: Photographs

Day 7-

Flaky's eyes were still puffy and red the next morning. When she touched them they felt swollen and itchy, so she got an icepack out of the fridge and sat down for the next message. Hopefully it wouldn't be another emotional day.

"Flaky, today I need you to visit an address. Petunia will be picking you up at noon."

The message cut off, and Flaky was starting to get used to the feeling of being in the dark until someone came and picked her up. It was only 9:30, so she laid down on the couch and placed the ice pack over her eyes, flipping on the TV and relaxing into the cold. It felt like she was getting a routine going; listening to the messages every morning and coming home late every night, sometimes more confused than sure of her decisions. So far she had been doing what felt like a mix of everything, some fun and some a little more emotional. But what they all had in common was that they had all been discussed that night Flaky had visited her house. She tried to think back and catalogue all they had talked about, but it was hazy and too overshadowed by the disastrous events that followed. She wished she had some kind of idea what she had said, but she knew most of it had just poured from her mouth uncensored. They had both opened up that night in a way she never had before, practically spilling her life story to him without a second thought. The only thing she HADN'T talked about was her father, but she never talked about that anyway. Had he really remembered all that she'd said in all its insignificance and then used them to create this elaborate plan? He was definitely smarter than he looked.

At 12:10, Petunia's jeep pulled up to the house. She greeted Flaky warmly and with a small note of I'm-still-sorry-about-the-tarp-thing. She had her hair braided to the side, the same beret pulling the sides back, Capri shorts and a multicolored tank top. She looked like a girl who just got back from surfing the coasts of California.

"Well, where to?" Flaky asked, buckling her seat belt.

"You know I can't tell you that," she smirked.

"Can't blame me for trying."

When they pulled out onto the highway Flaky cleared her throat.

"By the way, who is Handy?"

"Who is he?" Petunia furrowed her brow before her eyes went wide, "Oh you mean who he is to ME! He's my boyfriend. And hopefully soon my fiancé, but that's just between you and me."

Flaky smiled, already having a hunch they were more than friends by a long shot.

"You guys are cute together."

"Really?" She sounded proud.

"Yeah, really."

Fifteen minutes later, Petunia parked beside a house in a quiet, rural neighborhood. It was one story, red brick and well kept. The mailbox said, "457 Moonlight Trail" and had a sign taped to it that had an arrow pointing to the front door and, "Auction outside."

"Do you know who lives here?" Flaky asked as they walked up the driveway to the front porch.

"Nope," Petunia smiled, opening the front door and going inside with no reservation. Flaky followed close behind, taking in the modern design and upscale furniture. It was bigger than it looked to be on the outside; the floors a wide expanse of deep orange, the walls tall and beige, the furniture looking fresh out of a catalogue and a TV bigger than a refrigerator. The only off putting thing were the boxes scattered across the room and the voices of people coming from the back door. They stepped out onto the back porch to rows of wooden chairs in front of a stand, boxes set up behind it and a stack of wavers on a dried up bird bath. Petunia took two, handing one to Flaky, before directing her over to one of the seats. There was a good crowd, some old some young, but most alight with the buzz of voices and anticipation. Flaky looked down at her waver and saw it had a number on it; 74. A look at Petunia's and she saw it was 75.

"This is an auction isn't it?" she whispered.

"What was your first clue?"

"I've never been to an auction before."

"It's easy, just raise your number and say how much you'll pay for the item they're showing."

"I didn't bring any money."

Petunia turned and gave Flaky a wide grin, her eyes narrowed slyly.

"Just try and stay under $1,000."

"-"

The auctioneer's voice was high pitched and lightning fast from his stand, his arms waving around and pointing in his smart shirt and tie. Beside him was a table with a vintage lamp on top, a tall, skinny man waiting beside it to wrap it up and give to whoever won the bid.

"-"

Petunia looked engrossed, smiling and looking at all the people. Flaky felt the auctioneer's words fly over her head under all the people holding up their numbers. The bid got up to $70 before it was called and a very gauche looking gentleman stood up to retrieve his prize. Flaky would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued, but she also knew she had never mentioned anything about an auction to Flippy. It wasn't on her list of things to do and he hadn't said anything about going to them…

She felt Petunia elbow her gently in her side, and she looked up to see a painting being lifted onto the table. A sheet was over it, draped over the edges in secrecy.

"AND HERE LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE HAVE AN ANTIQUE MONET PAINTING, YES THAT'S RIGHT MONET, ORIGINAL COPY, ONLY 10 IN THE WORLD!"

Flaky felt her heart swell as the sheet was pulled off, revealing Monet's "Cliff Walk at Pourville" on a framed canvas. Even if it wasn't the real, genuine painting, the details were exquisite and clear, no visible damage to the print.

"STARTING THE BID AT THIRTY, DO I HEAR A THIRTYFIVETHIRTYFIVE-"

Monet was Flaky's favorite artist. In college she had visited an art museum that had a Monet exhibit and immediately fallen in love with Claude's work. She didn't know why, but the sceneries and style was elegant and gorgeous to her, something she could only dream of having in her home.

"-"

The wavers began to shoot up around her, and Petunia had reached over to lightly grip her arm.

"Wait for it," she whispered, "wait until the numbers even out."

Flaky didn't have to ask how Petunia knew. She distinctly remembered gushing over Monet to Flippy that night.

"Eighty!" a voice called out, and they all turned their heads to see a man in a sharp suit and purple tie. He looked a little out of place, but his eyes were dead set on the painting.

"Ninety!" Another voice, this time from a middle aged woman.

Flaky watched silently as the numbers quickly escalated. She noticed an elderly woman sitting close by the auctioneer, a smile on her thin lips. She must be the owner of the items, hence the proud gleam in her eyes with each rising bid.

"-"

A couple more minutes passed and then Petunia hissed, "NOW!"

Flaky shot up, and all eyes focused on her.

"U…um…four-four hundred!" She squeaked, holding up her waver. She was about to sit down when she heard, "Five hundred!"

"Six hundred," she tried.

"Seven fifty!" they countered.

"Seven fifty five," she suggested.

"Eight hundred!" they retorted.

All eyes were focused on Flaky and the other bidder, who now stood up to show a young woman, middle height and face pointed. She didn't cast a look at Flaky, who shuffled nervously under all the eyes.

"Eight fifty," the woman continued, her face a little twisted as she said it. She clutched at the purse hanging on her hip. Her bid was obviously starting to dwindle down. Flaky felt a nudge on her thigh and she burst without thinking.

"One thousand!"

The woman's eyes narrowed, and with stiff limbs she lowered herself down. The auctioneer sputtered and straightened his tie in shock, trying to regain his composure.

"One-uh, ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS GOING ONCE, TWICE, SOLD! TO THE WOMAN WITH THE RED HAIR!"

The crowd laughed at her flushed cheeks.

The bidding ended around 4, and only after the crowd dissipated and the winners were loading their items into their cars did the elderly woman walk up and place a hand on Flaky's shoulders.

"You bought my Monet," she smiled warmly, leaning on a black cane.

"Oh, uh, yes," Flaky said nervously, "I did. Are you…are you the owner of this house?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I am. Lived here for thirty two years. All my stuff was piling up and I was very excited to sell it. I was hoping my painting would go to a good home."

"I, I promise I'm going to take good care of it, ma'am. Monet is my favorite. Um, just let me go find my friend and I'll see how I'm going to give you that $1000…"

"Oh, no need dear."

Flaky turned and looked down at her, surprised. She looked serious.

"No, no, no, no, ma'am please, it's your painting and I can uh, try and get you the money even though I have no idea where I'm actually going to get it from and-"

"Oh no dear, I assure you its fine. You must be Flaky, yes?"

Flaky furrowed her brow and nodded.

"Ah, I knew it. Don't worry, your friend Flippy has already paid for it. And in advance. I gave him a discount, since he did bring my grandson home."

In the setting sun, Flaky began to notice the slight purple tinge in the woman's hair. Her eyes were a crystal blue as they sparkled up at her.

Petunia walked over with the painting in her arms, smiling when she saw the two of them hugging each other close.

Day 8-

Flaky woke up to the afternoon sun fading back from her window. It was a little after 3, and in a panic she ripped the covers back and shot down the hall into the living room. Sliding to a stop in front of the answering machine half standing half on her knees she all but knocked it off the table as she slammed both hands down in search of the play button. The thought of sleeping through something possibly planned for the day made her stomach lurch. She heaved a sigh of relief as the message began.

"Flaky, at 6 o'clock, I need you to go down to the Presbyterian Church by the park. Go inside and into the chapel."

The message cut off and she couldn't contain the relief she felt knowing she hadn't missed anything. When had these messages become the deciding factors in her day?

Flaky had stayed up late last night, clearing off a space on her wall and hanging the Monet painting with Petunia's help. They got lost talking, Flaky explaining all of Flippy's messages and telling all about how she felt. She hadn't talked to anyone but Mime about the messages, and she thought Petunia deserved to know as well, even though she quickly found out her knowledge on the subject was already extensive. With a large, proud, and beaming grin, Flaky looked at the Monet painting hanging on the living room wall in all its glory. Petunia had explained she wasn't supposed to tell Flaky it was paid for until after the bid, saying it was supposed to be a surprise. It definitely had been a surprise, and she hoped to God the discount the woman gave him was of significance.

At 5:45 p.m. Flaky arrived at the church. There were no cars in the parking lot, shaded by tall weeping willows adjacent to the cemetery. The building was wooden, white, and almost vintage looking. Stained glass windows lined the walls and a steeple sat high atop the entrance. She had come in a skirt and nice blouse, since it was a church after all. Flaky herself was personally Methodist, but kept that to herself as she clicked her way up to the door in her white kitten heels.

Inside the hallway was a deep red, extending and then breaking to the right into the chapel. Before she turned to corner, the sound of a grand piano reverberated off the hollow walls and flooded out of the chapel doors. She paused momentarily to enjoy the sound of the chords and slowly pushed open the double doors.

The chapel had two rows of pews leading to the front, a preacher's stand on top of a row of small stairs and surrounded by potted plants. Tapestries hung from the ceilings and each seat was a deep red and placed with a matching red bible. On the far left of the stage was a large, black grand piano, shining in the light of the window high above. At the keys was an elderly woman, at least in her 70's, tapping away at the keys and thrumming the pedal with her foot. She didn't stop until Flaky was halfway down the aisle.

"Hello, you must be Flaky," her voice was smooth, groggy yet soprano. She must have been a smoker at some point in her life. She had deep grey eyes; hollowed out, weary lines on her face and sparse white hair pulled back into a bun. Her brow was creased though, as if she had just smelled something rotten.

"Yes, hello," Flaky smiled shyly, "It's nice to meet you…"

"My name is not important," she snapped, "Now come have a seat next to me."

Flaky stood, surprised and confused.

"Come along now, I want to get home before it gets too late."

She quickly padded over to the stage, slowly sliding onto the bench beside the woman. She flinched when she suddenly took her hands firmly, splaying them across the keys and adjusting her fingers.

"Are you right or left handed?" she demanded.

"I uh, right, but what exactly-"

"Okay then we'll stay in G minor."

"Yes, alright but what-"

"Your right hand is on the C, D, E, F, and G keys. Now I-"

"Ma'am can you please tell me what-"

"Would you just hush up already!" her suddenly loud voice cut her off, the room filling with silence. "I am here to teach you piano. Franz Liszt La Campanella to be precise. Now if you follow my instruction we will maybe get through the prelude before our time runs up for today."

Flaky was stunned into silence. The woman's eyes were set on her's like icy daggers, the lines in her face firm. She had placed her ring and pinkie finger over Flaky's arm, her nails skimming her skin lightly when she gave it a quick squeeze. Something about her felt familiar, but Flaky had no idea what it was.

"Are you ready?" she asked, and Flaky nodded. She briefly remembered telling Flippy about her love for the piano. She had taken lessons as a little girl, but then had to stop them when they ran out of money that was invested in the divorce.

"Okay then. Now here is the sheet music we will be following."

The lesson lasted until 10:30 that night. She had fallen right into the rhythm, much to the woman's pleasure, and had slowly but surely played rows of the correct notes. When they were done Flaky had awkwardly stood up and extended a hand, only to find the woman making her way down the aisle and through the chapel doors. Flaky hurried after her, but she had disappeared. There was a large room lined with doors and a bathroom, a bulletin board on the wall beside some pastel paintings and a confession box. One of the doors was open with a light on inside, and Flaky walked up to it, seeing it was a main office. The woman was standing inside; her arms crossed and back turned to her. There was a desk and a computer to her left, a row of drawers and papers to her right, and a small ceiling fan spinning above. Flaky stepped inside and noticed she was facing a wall covered in photographs.

"Ma'am?" she said quietly, walking up to stand beside her. When she didn't say anything, she followed her eyes to the pictures and studied them. They were all grainy and filmy, only a select few shiny and clear. They absolutely covered the wall, images of people standing beside the church and under bake sell signs, children smiling in a circle around a woman with an open bible on her lap, time lines of the building through the years, adults and families smiling in aprons at a soup kitchen. Her breath hitched when she saw a very familiar photograph of her dad holding a small, red headed baby in his arms.

The woman must have felt her surprise, because she cleared her throat and said, "Your father was a very generous man. He donated a lot of money to the church years ago. He said he had no use for it. He used to talk for ages about you, only smiling when we mentioned you the days he brought checks down."

"My father left when I was a child," Flaky said, and we didn't even live here at the time.

The woman smiled slowly.

"You must not remember. You visited him every other 3 weekends for a while. He would take you to this church sometimes on Saturdays. He had a house down here with his sister I think, but he didn't stay long. He skipped town the summer of your 7th birthday if I remember correctly."

"How did you get this picture?" Flaky asked, ignoring the true statement.

"We found it actually. On his last trip it must have fallen out of his wallet. We intended to give it back, but he didn't come back. And as a memory we pinned it up."

It was in his wallet, Flaky remembered. She used to play with it and look through all the flaps, always finding it tucked away behind his credit cards. She only slightly remembered trips to see her dad on the weekends, since she only did it for such a short time. And when he left town she had stopped coming until she and her mom permanently moved here. Her mind had blocked out most memories of him in a futile attempt to erase that part of her past, so it all felt fuzzy. But that picture was unmistakably his. With a stoic face she skimmed the other pictures, stopping when she saw one of a teenage boy with unkept green hair in dirty overalls and a goofy grin. In his arms was a bucket of white paint and behind him a freshly painted church.

"Who is that," Flaky asked, though she figured she already knew the answer.

The woman's smile turned bittersweet and a sad gleam lit her icy eyes.

"That," she said slowly, "is my grandson, Flippy."


	15. Chapter 15: New Arrival

_**A.N. Hey guys, I'm so sorry that this update is really late and that I've only been writing little side stories. If this chapter seems a little off I sincerely apologize. I'm slowly getting back into the story's train of thought. But I have a lot of really good plot twists coming up so get ready for some drama! And once again, thank you all SO SO SO much for all your wonderful reviews! You are all so wonderful!**_

* * *

><p>"Grandson…," Flaky repeated, feeling slightly surreal, "Flippy…is your grandson?"<p>

"Yes," she nodded, still gazing at the picture. She ran a wrinkled finger down the side of Flippy's face, pursing her thin lips. "I'm Flippy's grandmother. On his mother's side."

She turned to face Flaky, eyes firm and face demanding. Flaky swallowed, knowing that the last remaining reservations in their encounter with each other were gone. She knew she was going to be leveled with.

"My grandson hasn't spoken to me in 7 years," she began. "He hasn't kept in touch at all. Not even on Christmas. Not one word."

Flaky didn't speak, hoping her silence was gently urging her to go on. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. She drew in a shaky breath and turned back to the picture.

"But a week ago, he called me. He told me all about this, all about you. He said he'd been running for 7 years, and he wanted to stop now. And I've been waiting for him to say that for what feels like ages. He asked for my help. And I said I'd give it to him."

"…But, what…What was he running from?" Flaky cleared her throat, her voice slightly cracking.

Flippy's grandmother didn't say anything, just reached out and placed her palm on Flaky's jaw. Then she drew away and began to move towards the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the same time."

She flicked off the lights and walked ahead of Flaky to the exit. By the time Flaky was outside, she was in her car and turning onto the road.

The whole drive home, Flaky tried unsuccessfully to quiet the storm raging in her head.

Day 9-

The next morning Flaky woke up with a bad feeling in her stomach, and she wasn't sure why. It stuck to the top of her mouth like glue and made her insides twist nervously. She remembered the conversation about her dad the night before and the way Flippy's grandmother had discarded her questions without a word. It felt like pieces of a big puzzle were missing, and her mind was scrambling to find them all.

She was wringing her hands when she sat down to listen to the next message.

"Flaky, only a couple days left. I hope you've enjoyed all the days so far."

There was a pause, and when Flaky heard him take a deep breath she felt her heart stop.

"…You met my grandmother. I'm sure she said or showed you some pretty confusing things and I'm…I'm sorry about that. I asked her to do that, to not give anything away. Today, you'll be going to a museum that's outside of town around noon. It's in the countryside off the highway; and it'll be hot so dress cool. That's all for today."

The message ended with a click, and silence fell once again.

So a museum today? A museum of what? Was today supposed to be spent sightseeing? Except, wait, she had another piano lesson tonight with his grandmother, right? How was that going to work?

She shook her head and got up to take a shower.

At exactly 12:01, Flaky saw the familiar jeep pull up in her driveway. She walked outside in her blue jean capris and white T-shirt, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun.

"Hi," she said awkwardly to Petunia as she climbed in, attempting a smile.

"Hey," Petunia smiled, but there was something in her eyes that made Flaky's blood run cold. Something was definitely wrong. "You ready to go?"

Flaky buckled her seatbelt and nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to.

It was a war museum. One story. A few miles from the main road leading into town was an old, run down brick building with white cement steps and a small sign pointing to the entrance. It was surrounded by nothing but a barbed wire fence and long expanses of yellowing grass that crunched loudly under Flaky's feet. It smelled like dirt and musk when she and Petunia stepped through the wooden doorway.

To the left was a counter, glass on top and neatly polished, surrounded by black and white photos on either side and with an elderly man sitting back in a chair. The ceiling was low above their heads and quiet country music played from a stereo by the door. The man looked up at them as they approached, raising an eyebrow and shuffling through a drawer until he pulled out a clipboard and a pair of reading glasses.

"…Flaky?" he asked gruffly, examining the clipboard with a furrowed brow and then looking at Petunia. "And you are…?"

"Nobody," Petunia said, nudging Flaky forward, "Just a ride. I'll be back in a few hours."

Flaky turned to say something as she walked away but was stopped when the man cleared his throat loudly and sat up out of his chair.

"My name is Pop," he said, walking around the counter and up to Flaky, extending a hand. Up close she could see the stubble on his face and the raggedy pair of overalls hanging off his once-muscular body.

"Hi," she said, politely shaking his rough, calloused hand, "Are you the owner of…this place?"

She was startled when Pop threw back his head in a laugh. In the distance the door banged shut as Petunia exited.

"Owner? Ha! If there was anything to own, then maybe! But this place was funded by the city, and now it's just me and a couple other old guys running down here. No one ever comes, so it's awful silly for me to show up like I'm guarding it. All we got here is dust and pictures. And some memories, of course. But those are worth nothing."

He shrugged at Flaky and motioned her towards a hallway on the far right corner. There was another one parallel, but he didn't seem to acknowledge it.

"Right this way," he waved theatrically, then swung his leg forward and led her onward.

The hallway wrapped around the building with small corridors placed randomly in the walls. Pop was right, it certainly was dusty. But on every wall was at least 6 or 7 framed photographs and display cases, all a grim sepia color. The first exhibit was a couple plaques explaining the causes of war and the foreign and state policies. It had documents hanging that Flaky recognized as a drafting list.

"Now this is the really old stuff," Pop explained, "Stuff dates back to WWI. You'd be surprised how many people in this town have been children of war. This place was made to try and remember them all."

He walked rather briskly through the old sections, only throwing in bits and scraps of information. Somehow, Flaky realized this was because the main point to this wasn't meant to be centered on something that far in the past. As she guessed, the longer they went the more recent the photos and items became.

They stopped at a case where several cracked guns and bullet cases lay, and Pop twisted his mouth as he looked down on it. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough for Flaky to see that there lay a connection between the gun and the glass.

They turned to the left and then the pictures grew scarcer and the chipping white paint on the walls began to show through. She was too busy looking at a rather large red stain on a vintage uniform to notice Pop had stopped until she bumped into him. She apologized, then followed his gaze to the wall where at least 30 gold framed plagues hung side by side. She didn't recognize any of the names and faces etched into the granite, not until she saw the very last one on the far right. Flippy's morose face shone in the horrible light filtering down on them.

"That's…" she began, but stopped and moved around Pop to get closer.

She knew it was Flippy. The name at the bottom said so. But the face she recognized looked slightly…unrecognizable. It was in color, which only added to its unnaturalness.

The picture was of a boy, very young but of age. His green hair was short and growing out scruffy from its army cut. His skin was tanned and looked like it had been rubbed with sandpaper over and over until a new, snake like skin covered the old one. His eyes were hollow, two green orbs inside a shadow, and his eyebrows were drawn in close. It was out of habit, because his face wasn't tight. His nose was slightly crooked and his mouth was a thin, pink line. It looked more like a cut than lips, and it certainly looked painful. His shoulders were slumped heavily, like he had two sand bags weighing them down. On his collar bone was a dark purple scar that faintly twisted up his neck.

He looked lost, soulless, and so very, very tired.

"The boys and I made up this thing…" Pop spoke quietly, "We started hanging up pictures of the people who saved our sorry asses. Heroes, if you will."

A pause, and then he said completely dead pan, "I should be dead."

The weight of the words carried thickly through the air.

"I should've died a long time ago. But that man," he raised a finger to Flippy's face, "that man was always two steps behind. Managed to get me and several others out of some pretty sticky situations. He was more of a mercenary than a fighter, really. But, as I'm sure you can tell, he isn't exactly clean. For someone as young as him, he's seen more than most of us, and for every life he saved he gave up a little bit of his."

They stood together, staring at the lifeless person in front of them. It felt cold and lonely, and if Pop wasn't there to ground her, Flaky was sure she'd feel like she had slipped into a nightmare.

"He tried to, you know."

"Tried to what?" Flaky asked, not looking away.

"Tried to kill himself."

That made Flaky's eyes tear away.

"What?"

"Yeah. Almost did it, too." He clicked his tongue a few times, then suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Well!" he exclaimed, "I think that's enough for today, don't you? We got more stuff, some real happy stuff, down this hallway. Even a nifty little gift shop-"

"You…Are you just…Are you done?" she cut him off gravely, "With the story, I mean? Your just going to leave it at that?"

Pop looked a little defensive as he shifted his weight to his right hip and crossed his arms.

"Well what do you want me to say?"

"You just told me-!" Flaky half shouted, then stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself together. "You just told me that Flippy tried to kill himself. There's a lot to that I don't know about, yes? Why did he try to do it? How exactly did he become," she pointed at the picture, "that?"

Pop seemed to stop and think a little bit, rolling his tongue in his mouth like he was contemplating what to say.

"That's…all that I can say," he said, "Okay? I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."

"That's just how it is?" she repeated, the wooden floor creaking as she leaned back slightly.

"Mm."

"You can't just do that."

"What?"

"You can't just blow me off like that."

"I have to."

"Why? Because I'm supposed to be kept in all this goddamn suspense all the time? I'm supposed to stay in the dark and only get practically useless explanations?"

"No."

"Then what-"

"Hey where do you want these boxes?"

Flaky's sentence was abruptly caught off as a boy with bright blue hair rounded the corner and walked through the door, several heavy looking boxes stacked on top of each other in his arms. His face was hidden behind them and when he twisted his head around to look at Pop he seemed shocked when he noticed the other person in the room.

"Oh."

"Hello," Flaky said, albeit a little snidely. She wasn't done talking but she didn't want to be rude.

"Uh…just set them over by my desk and I'll go through them later," Pop said, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

He nodded, but stood his ground as he turned to look back at Flaky. She felt wary under his gaze and shifted on her feet.

"You don't recognize me do you," the boy said, a sly grin slipping onto his face.

"Uh, no, I…I don't actually. Do I know you?" Flaky cast a glance at Pop that silently said 'we're not done here' and turned back to the boy.

"I'm honestly a little hurt," he smirked, "Am I really that forgettable?"

Flaky furrowed her brow and tried to think, but to no avail. He was clearly aware of her confusion, which only made his smirk turn into a full out grin.

"Splendid," he said, and laughed when her face suddenly lit up in recognition.

"Splendid! Oh! Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"Its fine, its fine," he smiled, setting the boxes down and kicking them to the side with his foot. Pop frowned slightly but kept quiet. "I guess you're here because of Flippy?"

A silence passed over the three of them and Flaky felt so out of the loop she wanted to scream. How many people were aware of this whole thing and just how much was being hidden from her?

"I want answers." She said completely dead pan, and Splendid laughed.

"Of course you do. Come along and I'll explain."


	16. Chapter 16: An Unexpected Turn of Events

_**A.N. to make it up to you, I decided I'd publish the next chapter really early. I know my release dates are hellish, but I'll try to do it once every Thursday or Friday. If I combine this chapter and the one before it, maybe their half acceptable content can combine to make it a whole! Hope you like!**_

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><p>"So you know Flippy?" Flaky asked as they walked out of the museum. They had said their goodbyes to a very confused and slightly disheveled Pop and she had called Petunia to let her know she would be busy for a while. When she had explained she'd run into an old friend from college she hadn't asked questions, just saying they would talk later and she'd come pick her up in about two hours.<p>

"Yep," Splendid said, bobbing his head, "He's my best friend actually."

"Wait, seriously? So you must know all about the answering machine and all the days, right?"

"That is correct."

They rounded the corner and Splendid led her to a set of lawn chairs haphazardly strewn amongst the grass under a cluster of tall oak trees. Several empty beer cans and cigarette butts littered the ground as Splendid dusted off a chair for her and set up his own a couple feet away in the shade.

"Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I work here part time, actually. Pop is an old family friend, so sometimes I drop by to help him out."

"Oh. That's nice of you."

"Yeah, I'm a sucker."

"So anyway, how much can you tell me?" Flaky asked, gingerly sitting down, testing the weight of the chair. It was raggedy and scratched at her arms, obviously more than a couple years old from all the wear and tear.

"That depends," he said, leaning back slightly in his own chair, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know about the army."

The smile on Splendid's face sobered slightly and he tapped his fingers on the edge of his knee. He lightly kicked a beer can close to his foot a couple inches back and then cleared his throat.

"Okay, but on one condition, because I'm technically breaking the rules."

"What's that?" she asked warily.

"I want to know what happened in college," Splendid inquired, cocking his head, "You disappeared and I haven't heard from you until just now. I didn't even know you were back in town until Flippy told me."

"Well I've only been here for just a little over 3 months, to be honest," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Where did you go off to? And why did you decided to come back just now?"

Flaky bit her lip nervously. "Look, I'm the one who needs to be asking questions. And I don't really want to bring all that up-"

"On one condition," Splendid repeated, clearly unimpressed. Flaky let out a sigh and crossed her legs.

"Okay. Fine. Where do you want me to start?"

"How about the day you left? We were out getting coffee and being friends one day and the next they tell me you packed up all your stuff and skipped town."

"Well that's kind of an exaggeration," Flaky sighed, already knowing that she would have to explain the inevitable rumors, "It was short notice though. And I didn't plan on leaving. I still wanted to graduate but…"

She paused and Splendid raised a brow, waiting.

"My mom really needed me."

A slight breeze rustled the trees above their heads and tangled the hair sticking out from Flaky's ponytail. Splendid was momentarily caught off guard, but then nodded his head.

"Um…well, my mom she… When my dad walked out on us she kind of developed some…problems. It was like a really severe form of abandonment issues, and she got really bad anxiety and panic attacks sometimes when I was in middle school. We moved down here to try and get away from it all, and I got enrolled in the high school and everything, but she didn't really get any better. So when I graduated I got myself a place and took her to find a house up in the city. I thought it would get her mind off things, I mean; she always wanted to live in the city. When I got into the college here she had been seeing a therapist and was starting to get a little better, and she seemed to be doing well with the move, but… One day I got a call from the emergency room. Apparently, she had a spontaneous attack when she was out driving and she…she got in an accident. Seeing as how my dad was out of the pictures, it was all left up to me to take care of the legal stuff. I was so worried I knew I wouldn't be able to continue my classes and I needed to save money for the hospital bills anyway so I just…kind of dropped out. I've been with her for the past year and a half. And only just recently I've gotten the chance to come back and possibly finish my degree now that she's better. I planned on moving in and getting settled, and then maybe going back during the summer…"

She trailed off, indicating she didn't have anything else to say and looked down at her hands in her lap. It had been a while since she'd talked about her mom and if she was honest it felt a little embarrassing. The last thing she wanted was pity.

She stiffened when Splendid suddenly put his hand on top of hers.

"I see." He said when she looked up to meet his eyes. "I get it. Thank you for telling me."

Flaky attempted a reassuring smile, and waited for what felt like too long amount of time to be comfortable for him to draw his hand away. She felt a knot in her stomach when she thought she noticed something in his eyes, but she quickly waved it off.

"Well!" he announced suddenly, his grin back in place. "I guess it's my turn, yeah?"

"That would be nice," she agreed.

"I guess I'll start with high school!" He moved his hand away, falling back into his chair and clearing his throat.

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><p>Flippy and Splendid met in their private school. Flippy was in 10th grade and Splendid was in 9th, and after they met on a class trip they immediately hit it off. Flippy was the typical loner and never did anything out of school. He didn't hang out with friends or play on any of the sports teams. Splendid on the other hand was a social butterfly, always surrounded by people and the life of the party, and Flippy fascinated him, and the other way around. They had their differences, but that was the main reason they got along so well. Both felt important and special having some one so different accept them, and even as time went by and friends came and went they remained close. Flippy was always there to listen to Splendid and let him blow off steam, and Splendid was always there to bring a little life into Flippy's introverted life style. In 12th grade, when graduation was two months away, Flippy had confessed out of the blue that he was thinking about going to military school and possibly joining the army. Thanks to Splendid taking him to the gym and out in public, he had attracted the attention of some drafting agents when they saw his amazing physical strength and rather impressive stamina. He had never really thought about what he might do when he graduated school, so he figured it was as good an idea as any. Splendid, who was already getting offers from different colleges, could only smile and wish him luck. They had said their goodbyes to each other on graduation, then went their separate ways. Splendid only heard from Flippy once, and that was in a letter he received that said he had joined the army and wished him luck with college. After that, Splendid finished highschool early and went to college, pursuing his dream career of a medical professional. That's where he first met Flaky, and then later Cuddles, who had been with him ever since.<p>

The exact day after he got his masters in physical therapy, he got the call. Flippy was back home, and needed a place to stay. Splendid had picked him up from the airport and was surprised to see him escorted by two commanding officers. That's when they told him about what happened.

Flippy had gotten assigned to the worst unit. They had been the ones primarily targeted, and apparently the extended period of constant fight of flight had made Flippy develop developmental PTSD. It didn't show and he didn't tell anyone until the other soldiers reported to the doctors about the rapidly terrifying down spiral in Flippy's usual calm behavior. They said when he was out on the field and things got bad, he would suddenly begin acting in a violent frenzy, not seeming to have any remorse for killing or being in danger. He once ran right into the line of fire and had to be tackled to the ground to avoid being shot. He had developed a kind of personality disorder, a split personality that only came out when he was in danger and completely covered his usual self. It was common, but because of his superior physical abilities, he had become more of a weapon than a tool. After a while, he was discharged and sent home to be examined by doctors. They warned Splendid to be cautious with him and to try and not trigger any memories of the army. Splendid more or less took charge from that point on.

At first it had been difficult. One month after he started staying with Splendid, he had an episode when they turned on the TV to a documentary about fighter pilots. Then a week later he had another when they went out to try and get some fresh air and a group of kids ran by playing cowboys and Indians. He couldn't go see certain movies or be in public for too long and at night he would wake up screaming in fear. After he had wrecked half of the guest bedroom in the aftermath of a particularly realistic nightmare and attempted to swallow a whole bottle of aspirin, Splendid got him to go and see a doctor. He had hated it, and the only way to get him to get some progress in was if Splendid threatened him with taking him again. Splendid should have been afraid, and lots of people in town who had heard the rumors had told him to get Flippy some professional help, but he wasn't the slightest bit perturbed. He saw the real Flippy amongst all the ashes and scars; the one who stayed up late with him playing videogames and who was horrible at flirting with girls. The Flippy who he had confided everything to and who made him feel a little less lonely. He never stopped believing that that part of him was gone, and one day, 5 months later, when Flippy finally broke down, he was proven right.

After what seemed like a relatively short amount of time, he made a full recovery, if only but a little scratched up and rusty, and the darkness clouding his mind had dissipated. He knew Flippy was still absolutely terrified of himself, even if he didn't admit it, and knew he hated himself more than anything. He knew there were parts of him he could never reach and that the only one who could fight his demons was Flippy himself, but he had gotten his best friend back and had saved his life.

* * *

><p>Splendid told Flaky all these things with slightly less details, just giving her the basic outline that molded Flippy into the person he was today. When he had told her about the past, he moved on into the future.<p>

"You're the only one, you know," he said, staring intently, "who he's even shown the slightest amount of interest in. When he first told me about you, he looked exactly like he did in highschool. Before all the bad stuff happened and he still liked being stupid with me. Before he got a big stick up his ass, basically."

Flaky gave him a tiny smile, but it was overpowered by the glaze forming over her eyes. When the first tear fell she violently wiped at her eyes.

"I met his grandmother, you know. And she said I was special too."

"Yeah, Flippy told me about how he contacted her. He hasn't told me the specifics about what exactly he left in those messages, but I think he knows what he's doing. Or at least I hope so."

He quirked a brow and said in an almost whisper, "Do you think it is?"

The world suddenly narrowed in Flaky's mind, and it all seemed to explode in total clarity. She shot up, knocking her chair back and startling Splendid.

"Oh!" She exclaimed loudly, clasping her head and smiling to herself. "Oh my God!"

"Uh, Flaky-"Splendid began, slowly standing up too. "What's go-"

"Of course! It all makes sense!" Tears were still streaming down her face, but they seemed to be flowing a lot easier. It was like water that had only been leaking from a crack in a dam had suddenly had the whole wall split in half.

She suddenly turned on him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him back and forth. The light in her eyes immediately broke the tension in Splendid when he looked down at her, watching her tremble in whatever revelation she had reached.

"Of course I'm special! Don't you see?"

"Uh…"

She continued, "For some reason, whatever reason, we met and we immediately saw right through each other! Because we both have things we hide from people! We both went through things most people don't have to experience and we both have gone to multiple doctors and professionals and tried to get over the past but it's so hard and I get it! That's how he connected with me! That's how I connected with him! I didn't even have to know the whole story to know him deep down! And he really knows me! Truly, truly knows me! Isn't that great?!"

"I, uh, well yes I think I get it-"

"I was so worried because he just suddenly came into my life on a level no one else has in a long time and in such a short amount of time and I was worried and I just thought he was going to hurt me and that I was going to possibly turn into the same girl I was in highschool and middle school who had anxiety problems and cried all the time and was so broken her dad left her and then suddenly tried to come back into her life and just OH MY GOD! YES!"

"Yes?"

"YES! AND HE'S USING THESE MESSAGES AS A WAY TO LET ME KNOW HOW MUCH HE GENUINELY CARES! I THINK HE LOVES ME, SPLENDID! I THINK HE REALLY DOES AND I DON'T THINK HE'S GOING TO FORCE ME TO FEEL THE SAME! BUT HE AT LEAST WANTS TO TRY! AND NO ONE'S EVER DONE THAT FOR ME BEFORE! EVER!"

"No one?"

"NO! NEVER!" She was shouting and jumping now, so blissfully out in her own thoughts that she didn't seem to notice when Splendid grabbed her shoulders and held her tight.

"Really? You really think that? You can't think of one person who tried to do all those things for you?"

She still had a magnificent grin on her face when she slowly began to realize something was wrong. She froze as she saw the seriousness in Splendid's face and heard the steely tone of his voice. His grip on her shoulders tightened suddenly and she winced.

"I know you've been through a lot, but don't stand there and say that so casually."

"Splendid…what-"

"I could have been that person. I tried, back in college. I really did."

A breath of electricity shot through between them, and the excitement quickly faded into a sour understanding. Splendid was waiting for her to say something, anything, and Flaky felt desperate to stop the glint of anger in his face.

"I…I didn't really…I didn't know."

"I made it obvious. I made some pretty straight forward advances! Only an idiot wouldn't notice them!"

Resentment laced through his words and scraped at Flaky's patience. She felt a rebuttal building in her throat as she said, "Well I'm certainly not an idiot, and you'll have to forgive me for being so preoccupied in college. I had a lot more important things on my mind. I don't remember you directly telling me you felt something more for me."

"For fucks sake, I shouldn't have to! The amount of thought I put into cracking that shell you walked around in was tremendous! And you didn't even get a _HINT?"_

The words left his tongue like a dagger and Flaky felt vicious pangs of guilt in her gut.

"I'm sorry, okay! What do you want me to say? I didn't know!"

"Yeah, I get that. And the fact you never realized I've been here for you all along just pisses me off that much more."

Before Flaky could say anything else, he ducked his head down and kissed her. It wasn't gentle at all, and she felt their teeth knock together at the ferocity.

His hands wrapped around her shoulders in a vice grip and when she tried to open her mouth he took that as a welcome instead of a refusal.

In a second, Flaky had twisted out of his grip by reaching up and pinching the side of his arm as hard as she could. When he finally let go she drew her hand back and slapped him across the face. Hard. As hard as she could.

His head snapped to the side, a bright red mark quickly surfacing on his cheek. Flaky could barely see through the stinging, searing tears that welled up. She stood still, whimpering and chest heaving, and Splendid's face was emotionless when he turned back to look at her.

"…Flaky, I'm sorry…"

"No."

"Look, I don't know what I was-"

**"**SHUT UP. HOW DARE YOU. YOU SAID YOU WERE HIS BEST FRIEND. HOW COULD YOU EVEN _BEGIN_ TO THINK THAT WAS IN _ANY WAY OKAY!"_

She sputtered to a stop as her heart continued to pound in her ears.

"Flaky?"

Both of their heads turned to see Petunia standing on the edge of the grass, her eyes wide.

"Flaky, what…Why are you crying? What happened? Splendid, what happened?"

Splendid was silent as he looked down at his feet and Flaky, without thinking, darted. Petunia had only seconds to open her arms before Flaky collided into them.

"Flaky, hey, Flaky," she breathed into her ear, patting her back in a startled effort to calm her down. "What…what the hell is going on here?"

Flaky didn't look up, but she somehow knew Petunia was looking at Splendid. There was silence as Petunia's arms suddenly tightened around her.

"You didn't." She dead panned.

Splendid's silence was all she needed to know.

"…I hope you're proud," she hissed in a voice Flaky had never heard before. It sent shivers down her spine and she sputtered out, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

"This isn't your fault," Petunia whispered, slowly steering her towards the road where her jeep was waiting. She helped Flaky into the car gently, then patted her knee and said, "I'll be right back."

She turned on her heels and headed back around the corner, and Flaky curled up in on herself. It was all her fault. She had done this. She could have stopped this if she hadn't been so stupid…

Petunia returned shortly, climbing into the driver's seat and putting the gear shift into reverse.

"Okay, let's get you home."

"What…wh-what did you go do," Flaky said through sobs, trying to keep from sniffling.

"Well, I went to go show him exactly how I felt, but from the red mark on his cheek I saw you beat me to it."

Flaky couldn't help but smile at Petunia's chuckle.

"But I made sure to make the other side of his face match it."

"That was…nice of you."

"It's the least I could do."

"…Petunia?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Really."

Flaky felt Petunia's slender fingers give her head a reassuring pat and they sped down the highway back to town. Flaky had no idea what to do now. She knew she had royally screwed up any chance of getting along with Splendid now, and Petunia apparently knew Splendid and his feelings towards her. She wondered who else knew, and guilt clouded her head and bubbled in her stomach. One thing was for certain though in her head.

Flippy could absolutely not find out.


	17. Chapter 17: Coming to Terms

_**A.N. Hey guys! So yes, I know, its been a long time and I'm so, so, so sorry! I've been busy with school and SAT's and jobs and people and I have been struggling to find time. All of the lovely messages I've recieved have been wonderful, really, and I can't thank you enough for being patient with me. All your reviews and favorites have been a really big part in helping me continue this story, and I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me! This chapter is really angsty, but things will be getting better soon! Promise! Thank you again!**_

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><p>Flippy was having a good day. He had woken up on the right side of the bed, had eaten a decent breakfast and gone to the store. He'd cleaned up around the house, finished up the laundry, re stocked the pantry, and run a mile, trying restlessly to get the excited buzz out of his body.<p>

It was a matter of days.

Before Flaky finished all the messages and unearthed all the clues, before she found the last and greatest gift, before the decision was finally in her hands to make, how he would finally get his second chance to possibly get her back.

It was so close he could TASTE it. No matter what he did, it was a constant tingle in his subconscious. It was all he could think about, it was all that mattered. He hadn't realized how much he wanted this until now, even though he'd already been so sure of himself.

Flippy was having a pretty great day.

It was a little before 7 when he got the call. He was sitting on his couch, trying to watch a movie he'd heard Cuddles go on and on about, bored out of his mind, when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. A look at the screen showed it was his grandmother calling, and just reading the bright letters made something drop in his stomach. There was something so unsettling about having members of your family call you after years of little to no interaction, even in spite of recent events. But hey, today had been a good day. What was the worst that could happen?

Swallowing he answered, and before he had a chance to say hello, before he had time to prepare himself, before he was ready to realize his perfect day was about to be shattered, he heard her say,

"Flippy, Flaky didn't come to her lesson tonight."

Splendid was sitting on his back porch, drinking a cold beer and watching the sun set when his phone went off. He'd been trying, very unsuccessfully, to sit and intoxicate the day out of his system, and when he saw who it was that was calling he felt his throat go dry and his pulse escalate painfully. Taking a swig from the bottle, savoring the burn that traveled down and settled in his stomach, he pressed the button.

"Hello?"

"Splendid, I just got a call from my grandmother. She said Flaky didn't come to her piano lesson, even though she told her she had more, and she said she hadn't gotten a call or anything from her and she doesn't know why and…"

Splendid sat and silently listened to the news pour out from the other end of the phone, even though it was something he'd already seen coming. He'd had a sliver of hope that things hadn't all gone to hell, but, of course, even with 3 bottles of beer in his veins he'd known clearly it had. He'd planned on ignoring the problem until it came screaming back up at him, got in his face, pushed him down, and kicked him until he was unable to move. And this call was more or less the same thing.

"Splendid? Splendid!"

"Hmm?"

"Are you even listening? Something is up with Flaky and I don't know what it is. And it's not like I can just call her and ask what's up. She wouldn't just stand up someone like my grandmother, there's no way, unless something happened."

"Maybe."

"No, not maybe, I really think so. I mean, what if she's given up, Splendid? She's not done with the messages, there's still so much time. Did things go okay at the museum today? Did anything happen or did you notice if anything was wrong or off?"

Splendid had never known Flippy to be so obviously disheveled before, but he shouldn't have expected anything less. Flippy was in love with Flaky, it was to be expected that he would be nervous when things weren't going according to plan. He didn't know what to say and he didn't know where to begin if he did, so he just swallowed and nodded, even though he knew Flippy couldn't see it. He deserved to know, he knew Flippy did, but could there be a way to avoid it?

He felt his heart sink when he heard silence from the other end.

"Splendid."

He flinched as he cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"What did you do?"

A heartbeat separated them as Splendid finished off his beer, pushing his fingers deep into his hair as he settled deeper into his lawn chair. Cicadas began to hum to life around him and the trees came to life in the night breeze. The only noise Splendid could hear was the far off buzz of static coming from the phone and the echo of his own breathing.

Flippy was waiting for him. And he could wait all night.

"I messed up," Splendid began the whole story.

Day 10-

Flaky awoke with a start, feeling her heart beat wildly in her chest. The grip of the nightmare she'd just been having was still locked around her throat, and she gasped for air as she came back to reality.

She'd dreamed that Flippy had decided she was worthless and wrote a book about how horrible she was and how he would never trust her again after she'd kissed his best friend.

Probable, no, but possible yes.

She just couldn't shake the feeling. Petunia had taken her home after picking her up, and she'd stayed with her for a couple of hours, reassuring and then reassuring some more that this wasn't her fault and she didn't need to feel guilty at all. But she did, and she had not gone to her piano lesson that night because she couldn't bring herself to face Flippy's grandmother. It was silly, but she felt like it would somehow be treacherous, double handed to sit and play with her when just hours before she'd been kissing her grandson's best friend, even if it wasn't her fault. Which, she was sure, it was. She should have noticed Splendid's feelings before, she shouldn't have dropped the friend she had in him during college and she shouldn't have left him hanging for all these years. It wasn't fair to him, and deep down she felt she deserved this. How could she really think it was going to all be so simple? She still had much too many strings to tie up before she could think about moving on with her life. Strings that if Flippy knew existed, she was sure he wouldn't give being with her a second thought.

Unable to think straight and calm her nerves, she rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen. After looking through the freezer and pulling out some ice cream that she haphazardly dropped into a bowl, she leaned against the counter, slowly sucking on the spoon.

Her eyes and thoughts roamed over to the answering machine, to all the messages she still needed to hear and all the messages she really didn't want to listen to. Thinking of Flippy's voice and his next surprise made her gut twist, and she quickly shoveled more ice cream into her mouth.

She would have to face it soon. Eventually.

But soon couldn't be far enough away.

Cuddles had gotten a text from Flippy asking her not to come over today, and she had been confused. Today was supposed to be the day they all got together to discuss how the plan was going and make reservations for the trip the Flippy may or may not be attending. Today Flippy was supposed to make a decision, so what did he mean not to come over? That was just ridiculous.

After a quick stop by the store she was at Flippy's around noon. She got out of her truck, throwing the bag of chips and plane tickets over her shoulder and striding up to the front door. Splendid would come over soon, she'd just sent him a text saying she was here and they would all talk when he got there. She rang the doorbell. Then rang it again. Then once again, because there was no answer and the bags were starting to feel heavy.

"Hello?"

She heard Flippy's voice behind the door, but he didn't open it.

"Hey it's me, let me in."

"I told you not to come over today. Go home."

She rolled her eyes, shifting her weight and leaning closer to the door.

"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass and died this morning, but we need to talk about stuff. Like the trip, remember? And how things are going with Flaky-"

The door swung open, and Cuddles stepped back a little in surprise. Flippy stood there, in loose pajamas, face deathly serious and dark circles under his eyes. His lips were pressed into a hard line and his eyes held no signs of life. They looked cold, desolate, and he was gripping the door so tight his knuckles were going purple. Cuddle's swallowed.

"Flippy, what-"

"Go home, Cuddles."

"Flippy what's going on? Tell me!"

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I just…I'm sorry. I can't. Not right now."

"What the hell are you-"

"Splendid should be the one to explain."

"Splendid? What does he have to do with… Look, just tell me, I can help."

"No, you can't. Not with this."

Cuddles began to feel nervous and jumpy, she hated being left out of things. And the look in Flippy's eyes told her that whatever had happened was bad, and Splendid was the one who caused it. What could he possibly do to make Flippy like this? What had happened?

Then it hit her. Like the weight of the world was suddenly dropped on her shoulders.

"He did something with Flaky. Didn't he?"

"Cuddles…"

"Flippy, I have a right to know. You know I do. You have five fucking seconds to let me come inside, put these bags down, and explain every last detail to me. Because we both know Splendid has been hiding something from us."

Flippy looked her over, eyes flicking over her face. They stood there, on his porch, knowing the bubble they'd both been in had popped. Flippy knew, and Cuddles knew. There was a connection between Splendid and Flaky, one they both wanted to pretend wasn't there, and their suits of blissful ignorance had gone up in flames. She knew, and he knew, somehow all along. And yet they had ignored it.

"I didn't want you to find out this way."

"I've known about it way before this."

"Is he coming over?"

"I texted him, so maybe."

"Guess we'll find out."

Ten minutes later Splendid would come over, and Cuddles and Flippy would be sitting in the living room, cups of coffee sitting in their laps even though they'd never touched them. There would be a breath of silence, and then they would all come to terms.

* * *

><p>Flaky didn't show up for her lesson again that night. But somehow Flippy's grandmother knew.<p>

* * *

><p>Flaky didn't listen to the message that night either. Instead she sat on the floor and stared at it until she couldn't stand it anymore and went to bed for another sleepless night.<p>

Day 11-

A box arrived at Flaky's door around noon. Written on the top in black sharpie was her name, and despite her better judgment she set it down on her kitchen table and opened it. She hadn't listened to the message for today, so she had nothing to go off of. But opening the box was the least she could do. She felt obligated, even if she was too afraid to even listen to his voice on an answering machine.

Inside was a scrapbook made of leather, filled with pictures of destinations that matched the ones on her wall and a few new ones, all beautiful. Surrounding the Polaroid's were hand written notes, arrows making a travel map between them.

Flaky recognized them immediately.

These were the places she'd gone with her family, before her mom had the accident, and the rest were trips they had planned on going to but never gotten the chance.

She had explained her destination bucket list to Flippy that night, so many, many nights ago. And he'd listened to every word, every description, every little detail, making the pictures perfect. They included the famous sites she wanted to see and the notes described the ways she wanted to spend her time while there.

And the very last picture was a postcard of Florida, and beside it an arrow that said, "4 days left."


	18. Chapter 18: Not Over

**A.N. Wow hey guys its been 6 months. So yeah, how crazy is that? I've been so busy with school that writing got pushed on the back burner. But hey, I'm here now! And I can't thank you all enough for the nice messages and reviews I recieved while I was away. It meant a lot and was the primary reason I found the motivation to come back with a new chapter. And I made this chapter a little special, so I hope you all forgive me! Once again, thanks so much, and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Day 12-<p>

Flaky hadn't felt this way in a long time.

It was a Saturday afternoon, warm and slightly humid, like the ominous threat of rain hung in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike. She had spent all day in bed, curled up on her side with the scrapbook tucked away beside her. She'd been flipping through it on and off, spending what felt like hours on one single picture and tracing her fingers over the words written out beside them. She'd never seen Flippy's handwriting before this. It was very uniform, like in a formal letter, but the vowels had sweeping lines and the exclamation marks were tilted slightly to the left. It was unique, and she was reminded of an article she'd read about how you could examine someone's personality through their handwriting. She wondered what Flippy's meant; all sweeping yet organized, large upper-case letters overshadowing the following lower-case. Then she thought of her own; sloppy when she was nervous, but always very small. Always tiny letters, so small it used to make her teachers mad when they couldn't read her papers. Maybe they were so small because she felt so small. So small compared to everything around her.

Useless, in the way, but quietly spending her time between the lines. She didn't know, and it didn't matter. She continued to look at all the pictures until she reached the end and read the same letters she'd read a million times now.

4 more days.

Why did it feel like 40? What was at the end of the 4 days? Was she supposed to meet him? Was he going to come to her? The thought of being confronted made her pull the covers up, covering her chin as she tried to bury herself further into the sheets. It reminded her of the nights she'd spent with her mom at the hospital, curled up in the chair with the scratchy hospital pillows, closing her eyes and imaging that maybe, if she thought hard enough, she could be swallowed up in the blankets and the darkness and disappear. That was when she'd lived each day with the electrifying uncertainty of anxiety, when she'd had to take medication every night and lie to her mother's face that she was fine and to just focus on getting better.

She thought of her mother now, and all the missed opportunities that had passed in the past few years. They hadn't spent Christmas or Easter together, and Thanksgiving passed without a second thought. She was always too busy and her mom was always off somewhere, trying to regain the freedom she'd lost while in the hospital. She remembered the last words her mother had said to her, when she came to help Flaky move into her house.

"You'll be fine. And if you ever need me, I'm just a phone call away."

Whether she meant to or not, a few minutes later she had her cell phone in hand, holding it close to her ear and breathing in time with the dial tone. When it stopped, she exhaled silently.

"Hello?"

"Hi mom.

_Yesterday Evening-_

There was a silence in the room that felt so heavy Flippy was afraid it would smother them all. When the air conditioner sputtered to life in the hallway they all flinched, blinking and trying to regain their composer. This was stupid, this was ridiculous. Yet none of them had words.

Splendid had shown up, dragging his feet, and there had been a brief screaming match. Cuddles had cried and yelled and thrown a fit and Flippy had sat and intervened when Splendid tried to talk, otherwise silent and trying to just listen. To just take in the fact that yes, this had happened, and yes, everything was really fucked up now. He hadn't asked for this, and he knew it wouldn't be easy. But no one had told him it would be this hard. When Cuddles was done and her tears dried up and turned to wheezing breaths, she'd sat down and put her head in her hands, and Splendid had taken a seat across the room, trying to give her space but sitting like there were pins and needles all over the chair.

It was getting late, and Flippy hadn't eaten yet, and despite everything he felt his stomach rumble. Then he remembered he hadn't eaten all yesterday. His sleeping habits and his eating habits were directly proportionate.

After an hour of absolute silence, Splendid cleared his throat.

"I know it's probably not worth anything now, but I really am sorry."

Cuddles gave a dry laugh that sounded halfway like a sob and halfway like heaving groan.

"That's funny."

Splendid looked at her, his eyes turning slightly desperate.

"Cuddles, I'm serious-"

"Don't start this."

"But-"

"I'm serious, Splendid. I'm on the edge right now and if you push me I don't know…" then she looked up and gave him the darkest look Flippy had ever seen. "You know why I'm still with you? Even though I've know this whole time how you really felt? Do you? Because I'm starting to wonder myself."

Splendid was silent.

"I guess I thought, maybe, I would be worth more than that to you, and that you wouldn't throw away the past 4 years. I thought I meant more to you, that this meant more. But I guess I was wrong. I guess the only one who cared that much was me."

Flippy felt his chest tighten, because even though it was meant for Splendid, it felt like she'd delivered a blow to both of them. Seeing her like this wasn't natural and it wasn't right, and he was absolutely livid that this was happening right in front of him. He was angry that he felt guilty and he was angry Splendid had done something that would probably tear the three of them from each other. If this was how friendships worked, and Flippy knew it wasn't, then they might as well stop kidding themselves and just stop while they were ahead.

"But," she continued, and they waited patiently. She turned to Splendid again, and he leaned forward as if hanging off her every word, "I still can't find it in me to leave you. I don't have the courage to do what you probably should have done. As wrong as it was for you to do, I can't bring myself to blame you too much. I mean you loved her first. And you don't just get over that. And it was your way of sealing the deal. It's probably been in the back of your mind for a long time and I'm…I'm happy you got the chance to come clean. We don't all get that chance. And when I said forever," she smiled, the first real smile they'd seen all night, "I meant it."

And Splendid was across the room in half a second, closing the distance between them and their lips like it was the only thing he could do to survive. He held her tightly, melding her body to his and Cuddles brought her arms under his to clutch his back. They broke away after an elongated few minutes, still slightly brushing their lips as Splendid spoke. His voice was broken and heavy.

"I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't thinking."

"I can never make it up to you."

"I know."

"But please let me try. Please Cuddles."

"I already said I would."

He kissed her again, and Flippy heard the repetitive chant of "Forever" being exchanged between them. And it felt like his scorched heart was doused with water, relief like a wave of grace. He could let them have this moment. As long as in the end, it was fixed. He remembered his previous thoughts and felt them confirmed. Cuddles really was one of a kind.

He didn't know how long the moment lasted, but it ended when he heard Cuddles speak.

"What are you going to do?"

Flippy looked up when he realized the question was meant for him. They both looked at him, cautiously waiting, both looking more concerned than he expected.

"I actually… I want to say I don't know, but…" Flippy cleared his throat, trying to rid the lump in his throat that had been there since this whole thing started. "I don't know if we're still doing this trip or not-"

"Oh, we are," Cuddles cut in, and both Flippy and Splendid looked at her in surprise.

"I'm not letting this get in the way of my plans. Why waste tickets? And you're invited too still, of course. If not for anything, at least to get away for a while."

Flippy nodded.

"Okay. Well, I guess… I don't know if she'll do the rest of the messages, but…" he looked at them both, lowering his voice to show how serious this was, "I know she's probably blaming herself for this. I know she's more upset than the three of us combined. Her mind is probably running wild right now and I don't think she'll handle it the way she needs to. And I don't know if this is my place, but I don't want that to happen. If she's going to go back into herself again, I want to try and stop it."

Cuddles nodded, and Splendid's face showed no reservations.

"So I'm going to need some help. Tomorrow. I'm going to finish the messages for her."

Splendid crossed the room and softly placed a hand on his shoulder, timid and slightly searching.

"Anything. I'll help any way I can."

"Was that meant to be an apology? You're not gonna kiss me, are you?"

"God no. And I don't know, did it work?"

"Kind of, actually."

"Then yes, it was," Splendid smiled, and Flippy couldn't help but smile back. "I'm sorry, man. You gotta know I am. More sorry than I've ever been for something in my entire life. And I'm going to make it up to you by helping you fix this. Whatever it takes. Seriously."

"I know," Flippy said, "and I have to kind of side with Cuddles. I mean, yeah I was pissed but, not too bad. I don't know why, but I guess I'm just glad it's out of the way."

"I couldn't ask for better people than you two," Splendid grinned, turning back to glance at Cuddles who grinned back.

Later that night, before they left, Splendid's arm around Cuddles as they stepped onto the porch, he paused, turning back to Flippy. He held out a closed fist, searching Flippy's face and accepting whatever he saw there.

"Are we cool?"

Flippy paused, if only for dramatic effect, then laughed as he extended a fist too and slightly bumped his.

"Ice cold."

And in time, it would be.

Present-

Flaky swallowed when she heard her mother pause on the other end.

"Oh, hey honey. I wasn't expecting you to call, but I mean, this is a wonderful surprise. I'm just sitting here catching up on my soaps. I just finished eating, have you eaten today? What's up?"

She was scrambling for the right words to say, and Flaky knew she was self conscious about how to be a mother still.

"Yeah, I ate," Flaky lied, trying to calm the waver in her voice.

"Okay. Honey, are you okay? You sound a little off."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired." Another lie lost on her.

"Well you need to take better care of yourself, you hear me? Sleep is really important. Especially when you're young. I watched a special on Dr. Phil the other day, about sleeping habits in children and its serious stuff. Did you know that insomnia can actually be brought on regardless of whether it runs in your family or not?"

One thing Flaky and her mother differed on was their ability to carry on when talking, and Flaky found herself smiling at the familiarity of it all. She would listen to her mom talk for hours in the hospital, late into the night, about the most random things that spread out across everything, grasping for any straw.

"Hey mom?"

She stopped her sentence about mental illness being related to sleep deprivation to answer, "Hm?"

"I'm kind of…going through some stuff right now and I just… I just wanted to make sure you haven't changed your mind."

"Changed my mind?"

"Yeah. About being a phone call away."

There was a pause on the other end and Flaky felt tears welling up. She didn't know why she'd asked, the words just falling out.

"Of course, honey. Anytime you need me. Whatever time of the day."  
>She breathed a sigh, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand and wiping it on the comforter.<p>

"Thanks mom. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Of course, Flaky. Look, I don't know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me. But I'm here now if you want to."

And Flaky did. She poured out the whole story in a non stop flow of words that gushed and gurgled from somewhere deep inside of her. Starting with how she'd dropped her phone, the mistake that started it all, to the messages and the gifts and the kiss with Splendid. She didn't pause as she steam rolled into admitting she was scared and that she felt the anxiety she'd worked so hard in the past to shut away, to stop the thoughts that bombarded her and the nightmares that plagued her dreams. She told her how much she missed her and that she was still worried about her health a lot, a great deal in fact, and that she hadn't spoken to her father since two Christmas's ago. And when she was done, her soul emptied all over the place and her lungs empty, bed soaked with tears and the phone foggy from her breath, a silence settled between them. There it was, everything and all at once, and Flaky felt like her brain had gone through the ringer and back. When her mom finally spoke she almost felt too tired to think anymore.

"Do you remember how I used to tell you God gives the strongest people the heaviest burdens?"

Flaky nodded, and her mom continued as if she'd been able to see it.

"Well you don't have to be alone to carry these burdens, honey."

And if she started crying again, her mother didn't seem to mind.

Day 13-

After the talk with her mom, everything felt both fuzzy and clear at the same time. She knew the problems were still there and that she still had to fix them, but a solution had finally been presented to her. Maybe, just maybe, she could follow through with it. She felt her confidence slightly rise, and she was proud that she'd gathered the strength to not fall back and give in to her fear. Her mother had made sure of that, knowing the way her mind worked all too well. But she still felt uneasy, because how could she not? The only thing that relieved the tension was crying, and she was starting to get extremely tired of that. It came in intervals, usually spaced by about 3 hours, and it made getting around hard. She'd given up around noon on getting anything done or leaving the house, and once she'd sat down to a light lunch on her couch, she remembered.

Nothing had arrived last night for the next message.

She checked her mailbox that morning, and there was nothing on her doorstep. There were no phone calls or notes or boxes or plans or cars to take her there.

She felt her stomach drop so hard she had to set down her plate and clutch at the pillow behind her.

That's it.

It was over.

It had to be, right? He'd given up. Flippy had found out about what Splendid did and probably knew by now how horribly Flaky had handled Splendid's feelings and how dumb she was to not notice them. He probably thought she was an idiot, had given up on trying to convince her how he felt. Because maybe he didn't feel the same anymore.

She felt empty, like everything she was had been sucked out and she was just a shell. Just an exoskeleton of failure and all the sadness she'd felt over the past few weeks. Hollow, like the slightest breeze could crack her paper thin skin and she'd crumple into a heap on the ground. It felt like she'd had the breath knocked out of her, and that even if she caught her breath it wouldn't matter anyway. It was over before it'd even been allowed to start. She wanted to listen to the messages again, and with shaky fingers she reached for the answering machine sitting on the coffee table. But her fingers fell short, and she felt like she was at the end of a tunnel that she couldn't see the way out of. What was the point? It would just remind her of what all she'd lost.

Over.

Over.

Over.

The words replayed like a broken record.

'It's not' she thought, between the assaults and the interjections.

Over.

Flaky didn't hear her doorbell ring the first time, and only felt reality submerge in her mind the third time it rang. She felt her body rise on auto pilot, walking towards the hall with only one thought in mind. The doorbell was ringing, and it was normal to answer the door when that happened, right? She didn't think it might be the next surprise for the day's message. That was too impossible, she decided. Whatever was at the door couldn't fix what had just been broken to pieces. She grabbed the answering machine on her way out; because after the person ringing the doorbell was gone she'd go out to the garbage and throw it away. No point in having it anymore. It felt heavy in her hands, like a weight she wasn't sure she was strong enough to carry.

She unlocked the door, pulling it open slowly and wincing as she looked outside into the sun washed porch.

"Hey," a familiar voice said from a familiar face on a familiar body standing in front of her. She felt her eyes fly open and her mouth go slack. Her arms felt limp and the machine slipped from her grasp. Before it hit the ground, the familiar person quickly moved to catch it, sweeping it up and holding it up to his chest.

"I think you dropped this," Flippy smiled.


End file.
